Things we have learned in Romania in 24 hours … or, how I became a waiter whisperer
My best friend and I are on a petite tour of Europe. We touched down yesterday in Bucharest, Romania.
Why Romania? Cathy, my bff, and I tossed around several vacation ideas last fall. We had settled on Ireland and Sicily and plans were proceeding apace, until she said, “What about Romania?” I shrugged and said, “Why not? We’ll call our trip ‘Italmania.’”
Here’s what we have learned so far in Romania:
- how to piss off the Romanian waiter at the Lebanese restaurant.
- don’t piss off the postal clerk. She will yell at you.
- bag our produce, then give it to workers in the produce aisle who weigh and tag it, then pay at the check-out stand.
- the lime green travel shirt that looked so smart and fun at Target actually yells TOURIST. Well, of course it does
- Romanians’ English is quite good, but they are collectively modest about their facility with it. Consequently, questions are frequently met with non-committal shrugs and eyes that immediately look past your shoulder. You can practically hear their brains whisper ‘Look away. look away! LOOK AWAY!’
So, the Romanian-waiter-incident at the Lebanese restaurant. The hostess who greeted us in the restaurant courtyard said, “You know this is Bolivian restaurant, yes?” We said that was fine. She seated us on the second floor balcony. The waiter stopped by a moment later and said, “You know this is Lebanese food.” We said that was fine. One of the two clearly hadn’t paid attention during training, but food from either region was fine with us.
Our RLW – Romanian-Lebanese-Waiter – presented our menus and I asked what he recommended.
“I like it all,” he shrugged and stared at the table between us.
“How about tonight? What do you feel like tonight?” I coaxed.
Another shrug. “It’s all good,” he said flatly.
“So, no recommendation.” I said. “Well, we’ll just read it then,” and held up the menu.
He engaged with Romanian diners at nearby tables. He inquired about their meals, cleared dishes and brought more food.
I adopted a business attitude toward him. I wasn’t rude, but I no longer smiled at him or turned toward him when he approached our table. In turn he became more engaged, even courteous. Perhaps he had tired of tourists’ incessant questions about the menu, perhaps he wanted to make the first business advance. Whatever it was that happened between us left us on neutral territory.
If a waiter is out and out rude to me I will leave a very small tip. This happens seldom. Romanian tourist sites recommend leaving a 10% tip for waiters. We left RLW a 20% tip. He opened the payment folder as we walked away. He snapped the cover closed on our Romanian Lei and snapped his head back with exasperation.
Sometimes waiters just have bad nights.
