Inside the House: Camping is for Yellowstone
Inside the House is a DCist feature offering an insider's view of fine dining issues by the hostess at a D.C. restaurant. Her views are strictly her own and do not in any way represent those of her employer.
It’s close to nine o’clock, and my 8:45 four-top is lolling at the bar.
The party at the table where we planned to seat them is leisurely browsing their dessert menus. They’ve been there since six. By all accounts, they should have been out by now. But half the party came in late, and the other two didn’t want to order until everyone arrived. They look comfortable.
I need to them to leave. I want that table vacated, re-set and ready for the next party. Preferably in five minutes or less.
I walk through the dining room and nod at their waiter. He follows me into the kitchen.
“Table 47,” I say nervously. “How long?”
“I don’t know. They’re taking their time.”
“Dude, the 8.45 is here already. Can you get them out?
“I’ll see what I can do.”
If you’ve ever worked at a restaurant, you know what I mean. Some parties get in, eat, drink and get out. But some of them set up a camp to stay past dessert, past coffee, past refills of coffee, and past paying the check. And nothing you do seems to get the “Time To Go” message across to the table.
Twenty minutes fly by. The seated party has polished their crème brulees and is enjoying a leisurely conversation over their third cup of coffee. The 8:45 at the bar is squirming in their chairs, shooting dirty looks in my direction.
“I’m sorry,” I step by. “The party at your table is still lingering -- it shouldn’t be too long. Perhaps another fifteen minutes or so. I do apologize, sir.”
Strolling through the dining room, the waiter catches a hint of dismay in my eye.
“Johnnie,” I hiss at him in the back. “Do something. It’s been three hours. I’m about to get yelled at. Get them out of here. I don’t have any more four-tops!”
“I dropped the check ten minutes ago! They’re still talking.”
“Can’t you come by and look surprised they didn’t take care of the check yet?”
“I did, three minutes ago. They waived me off.”
“I can’t believe this,” I mumble to myself as I scan the packed dining room for my options. Two smaller tables side-by-side may open up in half an hour. There’s a hard sell of a booth at the bar near the smoking area. If none of these work, it’s time for a free round of drinks for the waiting party that’s growing more and more annoyed by the minute.
Every waiter will recognize the diners in this story as "campers," a common but troublesome breed. Understandably, you may think that unlimited time at the table is included with the price of your entrée. Yet when we make reservations, we make an estimate of how long you will be at the table, and the next reservation will be scheduled around the time of your estimated departure. This may be irrelevant for the later seating or for less popular eateries, but if you plan to come in on the early side -- say, around 6 -- chances are, there will be another reservation waiting around 7:30. Four people? Around eight o’clock. Especially if the place is busy. And good waiters have a few tricks up their sleeves to send you on your way, but they are not without fail.
Do you find it unfair that someone is counting on you to leave? Think of it this way. All restaurants have to sell is food and seats. If we can sell more of both, we will. In fact, we’ll count on it. Of course, not before your two hours are up -- unless you want your check to double to cover both seatings.
Photo by flickr user Marco Wessel and used under a Creative Commons license.