What Are We, Chopped Liver?
Dec 12 '05
The Bottom Line I feel like breaking into song: "R-E-S-P-E-C-T." But wait, I can't sing. Gotta go call Aretha.
Every year, our 12-Hour Women's club meets for a Holiday celebration. Recently, we decided to try a Japanese restaurant for dinner and our annual gift exchange.
On Saturday, seven of us arrived and we were seated at a table with a grill in the center. All of us are deaf, and American Sign Language is our preferred mode of communication during our gatherings. Whenever we get together, we are often oblivious to any stares because we are engrossed in our conversations and we rarely realize that we "stand out."
Last night, we learned we were not welcomed at the restaurant.
The waitress was friendly enough at first when she took my drink order. I used my voice to order as well as one of the members sitting next to me. When the waitress encountered another member who signed, I voiced an interpretation. We asked for a wine list. We had a bit of a misunderstanding over Cabernet versus Chablis wine and suddenly, the waitress let out a sigh. That should have been clue number one as an indication of the rest of the evening's service.
Little did we know.
When it came time to order the main course, the waitress expressed a lot of frustration and impatience with the communication, or lack thereof. We were unfamiliar with the menu and she clearly did not want to spend any time trying to bridge the communication gap. I consider myself an excellent speechreader, but trying to speechread a Japanese accent in a noisy environment proved to be a tough task. One member resorted to writing down her order. You would think that she would welcome the clear instructions, but she actually did a humongous eye-roll before accepting the order. This was the first of several eye-rolls during the course of our meal tossed in with a few head-rolling sighs.
When she left the table, we stared at each other in disbelief. We shrugged it off and sat back to enjoy the chef, who was far more accommodating and willing to communicate.
While we were eating and enjoying our time together, the waitress came over and asked if we were done and if anyone needed containers. Several of us were still eating and it was quite obvious from the quantities of food left on our plates. One of the gals spoke up and asked the waitress to slow down and let us finish eating. She still managed to pressure us one more time a few minutes later.
We noted that party at the table next to us didn't get the same treatment and the waitress certainly wasn't pressuring them to leave.
What happened next sent our heads spinning.
I interpreted a request for a dessert menu and at first, didn't quite understand the waitress. She was refusing to bring a dessert menu. I
couldn't believe it-- we had never been denied a dessert menu before. I thought surely I must have misunderstood her. I explained again that we wanted dessert and needed to see the menu. Again, she shook her head and said that all they had was the pineapple boat that she had just served to two of us who ordered complete courses. We all looked at each other with puzzled glances. We knew that the waitress clearly was uncomfortable with us and very condescending but to refuse to serve us dessert? What in the world?
So again, I asked her to please bring the dessert menu. She finally said, "If you want dessert you will have to go to the bar and order it there. We need the table."
Hmmmm, the party next to us, who had arrived before us, was still sitting there, laughing and enjoying some after dinner drinks.
It certainly wasn't a lack of spending money, we had ordered over $200 worth of food and drinks for the seven of us.
So we quickly debated what to do. We certainly were going to talk to the manager, but did we want to stay at the table or move to the bar? We decided to move to the bar as a courtesy to other patrons who were waiting because we knew we wanted to chat for another hour or two.
I spoke with the manager and explained the situation and she was very apologetic. She offered us dessert free of charge. I also mentioned that she needed to direct our tip to the chef, who was very accommodating.
I still plan to send a follow-up letter.
Driving home that night and thinking over the event, I was outraged. Yes, some of us have a different mode of communication and are not able to use our voices, but communication is a two-way street. We have had many other events where we have communicated successfully and it requires an understanding and willingness to accept a different mode of communication (gesturing, pointing to menu items or writing things down). It requires a basic human respect for the person as a whole, and not the sum of their communication mode.
So if you'll excuse me, I'm going to go have some dessert. I'm still mad.
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Member: Karen
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