On Appreciating False Kindness
One of the most distressing tasks I’m sometimes charged with is finding a place to eat with a new acquaintance. Hell, actually, I have a hard time choosing a dinner spot with my own wife. But back to the point which others may more easily relate to, the quest to find a suitable and satisfying eatery for you and your confidant.
I most recently encountered this pickle last week when a fellow language study buddy messaged me about going out for dinner. Previously, we had only met for coffee and then once again for lunch. Following the natural order of things, evening dining was called for in order to level-up our friendship (I hope he doesn’t find this blog). Although he had brought up the idea for dinner, so you may think the onus would be on him to pick the venue. But since he was venturing out to my neighborhood, the responsibility fell on me.
Previously, we had only gone to small independent cafes. Anyone who knows me and my wife knows that we are connoisseurs of the chain restaurant genre. Of course, with company, why not show off a bit and take them to that hole in a wall you saw in that magazine? That place where no one knows your name and you don’t know how to order because you’ve never been there before. But dinner is trickier; diets, drinking habits, and budgets must be considered. Fortunately for me, my new friend is preparing for a trip to the land down under, so I recommended Outback Steakhouse!
Before you scoff, yes, I know it’s an American chain. Yes, I’m sure Australian cuisine reaches higher highs than the Blooming Onion (maybe). But work with me here; it’s a reasonably priced restaurant with various food and liquor options in a laid-back, non-smoke-filled, clean setting. It would do. Although my wife did first suggest Outback, she did have reservations about whether he’d enjoy the ‘hearty’ portions. “He’s moving to Australia; his stomach has to learn sooner or later,” I retorted.
The meal was as pleasant an affair as one could hope for. My guest thoroughly cleaned his plate, something I couldn’t do (yes, that can happen). He also enjoyed a good portion of the complimentary bread. While studying the menu, he remarked, “Everything looks so good,” and concluded the meal with, “That was tasty!”
Success!
Or… Was he simply being polite? A good guest? Following the Japanese tradition of complimenting the affair so that those responsible will save face? Was it all a farce?
Maybe… But I’ll take it!
I had recently had a meal with some friends from back home. The restaurant chosen (not by me) was a fine establishment. But the meal did not amaze as others had, as this place skewed a bit more to the traditional and subdued pallets of older clientele. It was ‘aight, but I probably wouldn’t go again. But no complaints; I could still enjoy the company and, therefore, the meal.
But midway, one of my friends began with the, “It’s okay, but not as good as that one place…” The floodgates had opened. The other friend added, “Yeah… What’s with the…” (Boy, I hope THEY don’t find this blog). All I could add was, “Ah… Yeah, maybe this place is a bit different to that one…” I don’t know why I was trying to justify things. I didn’t even choose the place.
This brings me to one of my biggest irritants; complaining about a meal midway through. I don’t mean if something is technically wrong with the dish. If it’s cold, under or over-cooked, by all means, let’s get it rectified. But not every meal will be the greatest culinary experience of your life. It can’t be. And that’s okay. Sit there, eat your food, drink a beer, and keep the conversation going. While we’re at this table, we’re sort of trapped until the bill comes.
Hence, this is why I appreciate kindness, empty or not. Let’s help each other all get through this, for my sake.