Restaurants are not for me.  I have never been a big restaurant-goer.  But everyone I know loves going to restaurants.  They praise the food and ambiance.  Neither the food nor the ambiance of fancy schmancy restaurants interests me when I remember the stories from friends who worked in restaurants.

Recently, a friend told me about a guy who worked in a restaurant who got a charge out of blowing his nose in the food of unsuspecting patrons.  How many times did he do this before he got caught?  How many other restaurant workers are out there who get a charge out of doing similar things?

Years ago, another friend who owned a restaurant, told me how the food inspector demanded a bribe to overlook certain unsanitary conditions.  The food inspector threatened to close my friend’s restaurant by enforcing every law to the letter.  Was this an isolated incident involving only that food inspector?  How many restaurants operate with unsanitary conditions because of bribed food inspectors?

What about mice and cockroaches?  Restaurants do their best to cover up their pest problem.

The artificial smiles and actions bother me.  “Hi, my name is Walter, and I’m your waiter for this evening.  I’m going to keep up the fake smiles and pretend that my whole goal in life is to make you happy.”  Give me a break!

And then there is the cost of the meal.  A meal that will cost you two or three dollars to make at home will cost you twenty or thirty dollars in a restaurant.  The food gets flushed away whether it comes from your home or a fancy-schmancy restaurant.  I would rather flush two dollars down the toilet than twenty dollars.

There are many restaurants along Bloor Street between Christie and Spadina.  As I walk along Bloor, I look inside them.  I see people laughing and talking and enjoying their food.  I think, “Do these people really want to know what is happening behind the scenes?”

 

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