Doing things the right way or the rat way?

I COMPLAIN a lot, but pretty recently I realised that I was doing it wrong; that there will seemingly never be an end to my complaining for one simple reason … I don’t complain to people who can do something about that thing that dissatisfies me.

But a few weeks back I was schooled by an impressive ‘live performance’ of how to complain with class.

I visited a local restaurant, and a young lady was having an intense conversation at her table with the waitron as I walked in. The lady wasn’t ranting, tossing toys out of her cot or foaming at the mouth. She was speaking in hushed, no-nonsense tones.

A little while later, her food was served. She took a few bites, furrowed her brow, and called the waitress over. Again she spoke to the server for a few minutes, and her meal was taken away.

By this time I was feeling like a stalker, but I couldn’t help it; I was intrigued.

Eventually, as I was finishing my beverage, what I assumed was her third dish was served. She poked around the plate for a while, took a small nibble, then took a photograph of the dish.

Again she called the waitress over, only this time I heard what she said.

“This, now THIS is excellent! Thank you so much! This is just perfect. Thank you, THANK you,” she said, beaming from ear to ear. And for the next few minutes she had a muted conversation with the person who had served her, both of them smiling broadly.

Growing up, I had learned not to moan about food. We had been taught that it was good manners to clear your plate of the meal that was served to you. And I still think that’s an excellent policy.

Unfortunately, I had somehow managed to migrate that etiquette to my restaurant experiences, choosing not to complain, even if the food was bland, unappetising or even downright repulsive.

At times I have found myself reluctantly choking down a mediocre meal, thinking that it would be impolite, rude, ungrateful to complain, or worried that they would spit on my onion rings – remember that urban legend?

It never occurred to me that I had every right to expect to enjoy what I had paid for.

Look, I have heard people spewing vitriol at servers at restaurants. I have heard of people overturning their plates if they regarded the food as substandard. There have even been people who have gone public, posting their ire on social media.

In my opinion that’s so wrong. After all, the object of criticism or faultfinding is not to have a fight, to embarrass an employee or campaign to get an establishment closed down. No, the object of expressing one’s dissatisfaction is to help the establishment identify blindspots, so they can address it, and do better in future.

Of course, this tolerance and decency shouldn’t apply if, hypothetically, you find rat remains in a loaf of bread that you have been eating from for a few days, and the company’s representative calls you to say, “You must understand that it gets hot where we bake our products, so things like this are bound to happen.

“Yes, I admit that your bread had a mouse or rat. We are putting measures in place to prevent this from happening again.

Followed by the reassurance that gave me whiplash when I read it:

“Don’t worry; it won’t affect you health-wise”

I wondered, was that an apology or a middle-finger?

However, as I was saying earlier, we could all do better, if we knew what we were doing ‘wrong’, and that’s the value of criticism.

But this constructive criticism could have a wider impact, it doesn’t have to be isolated to the hospitality industry, if you really think about it.

Just the other day, as I parked my car in a business hub’s parking area, I noticed the parking attendant sweeping up litter that had been strewn everywhere. He had already filled a few large boxes and several black litter bags, and he hadn’t made a dent.

He noticed my jaw hanging on the ground, and he quipped: “Schoolchildren, two buses full of schoolchildren!”

He then told me that the same thing had happened a few days earlier. And on that occasion, while the children were tossing their waste out of the bus windows, he decided to see what would happen if he approached the teacher.

To his chagrin, the teacher asked him if he could prove that it was ‘her’ children who had littered in the parking area.

He asked who else it could have been, since he had witnessed them doing it, and the educator just shrugged it off. He then asked her who she thought should pick up all the rubbish, and she simply said, “You should!”

Well, I thought, full marks to that educator for protecting her precious children from the mean and nasty parking attendant. How dare he expect her little doves to take responsibility for their actions. After all, in South Africa, we know that we should expect others to clean up after us, especially if we consider them beneath us. So well done in advancing the narrative.

Of course, I am being ironic. And slathering it with sarcasm.

You see, I believe that wrapping children in cotton wool and shielding them from responsibility will have the opposite effect of what’s intended. Like a restaurant left to offer mediocre service and poor food, resulting in a downward spiral, so too not calling a child to order could also harm them in the long run.

One writer that I greatly admire put it this way: “The object of discipline is the training of the child for self-government. (the child) should be taught self-reliance and self-control. Therefore as soon as (they are) capable of understanding, (their) reason should be enlisted on the side of obedience. Let all dealing with (them) be such as to show obedience to be just and reasonable.”

I could put my head on a block when I suggest that there are probably parents today, dealing with a spoilt, demanding, unreasonable child simply because they considered their ‘little angel’ too delicate to be disciplined … even when the discipline was done by a concerned person in hushed, but no-nonsense tones.