My Grandmother never met a roll she didn't want to put into her purse and take home. It didn't matter the restaurant or the occasion. Extra rolls on the table meant that a napkin was to be fetched, opened up, and used as a makeshift container. The package would be shoved into her handbag to be taken home and "enjoyed" at a later time.
Guests are always asking to take things home. We're happy to oblige. They paid for it, they only ate half, it's theirs. This YouTube video from user Joy Brooker has almost 500,000 views and is perhaps the best restaurant-related video I've seen in a year. It's poorly produced, repetitive, yet entirely spot-on. "This is SO good, but I can't finish it! Can I get a box? Can I get a box? CAN I GET A BOX?" If you don't like the video, trust me, your servers do.
The nature of the business is simply that we're going to hear the same request a dozen different times an evening. Which is why today's memorable guests were so refreshing, if also bizarre. They didn't sit in my section, but I could see they had finished eating. I approached their table and asked if I could clear the oldest lady's plate. "Yes," she replied, "and could you wrap the rest up for me?"
I turned with her plate and headed for the kitchen, but her voice stopped me in my tracks. "Wait!" she said. "Use this." And from her purse she pulled out a large Tupperware container.
So this was new. You have my interest, lady. I grabbed her container and took it to the back, filling it with her leftovers. When I returned to the table, I began to clear the plates of the other diners. They wanted their food boxed, as well, and I watched as the lady pulled out container after container, debating which size was perfect for each item. Her bag was Mary Poppins-like, small and unassuming yet containing a cabinet's worth of Tupperware. She truly didn't give a damn about how they all looked spread out on our tablecloth, next to the china and flatware.
The staff watched me juggle her containers and take them to the back, where I dutifully filled everything. The side station is where we go to laugh at the guests, and finally relax the "straight face" we've been forcing out on the floor. I let loose the giggles that I had to hide at the table. But through all of my laughter, I thought of my Grandmother. She might have embarrassed me at times with a bakery's worth of rolls in her purse, but this lady took the game to a whole other level.
