Everyone loves a good public meltdown, and this one from Boston restaurant Pigalle, a fine restaurant I happen to quite like, I will say, is certainly a doozy. Responding to a displeased guest, who likened the pumpkin pie to vomit, the restaurant, presumably owner/chef Marc Orfaly, unleashed a tirade of invective against the guest, which you can read below, courtesy of .
In terms of shitting on a guest, this is really a thing of beauty. All the bases are covered here: a lesson on how to behave in a restaurant, an invitation to explain the proper procedure for fucking oneself personally, an insult about the customer's weight, and a sleight about her ability to afford to eat in the restaurant in question. It even has all the requisite spelling and grammatical errors you'd expect from a social media induced fit of rage.
Eater Boston has a follow up to the sad saga as well. No, that wasn't the end of it.
There are probably all sorts of lessons here about the hospitality industry and the way that social media has changed how businesses interact with customers and bla bla bla, but I think there's a bigger lesson worth pointing out: many, many chefs do in fact hate you, the diner. Yes, yes, there are plenty of them who 'have a passion for cooking' and believe in the art of hospitality, so save it, whatever chef on my Facebook is going to get mad about that statement, but it's the truth.
It's not just true of chefs, of course. Everyone with any sort of talent, or who perceives themselves to be in possession of talent, is burdened with a white hot core of self-loathing that manifests itself through disdain for the people who their efforts are meant to please. Musicians, authors, actors, sports figures? They all hate you. That's true if you don't like them, because then you're an ignoramus for not appreciating their talents, or if you do, because then you're just a faceless number put on the earth to bask in the Talented One's glory and therefore a lesser being.
It's the same way you might lose respect for someone romantically once you've won them over. I don't want to belong to any penis/vagina that would have me as a member.
It's the same way you might lose respect for someone romantically once you've won them over. I don't want to belong to any penis/vagina that would have me as a member.
In fact, I hate all of you reading this post right now, both because there aren't enough of you and that makes me feel bad about myself, and because I question your judgement for being someone stupid enough to enjoy something that I've created.
It's a miserable existence, producing anything 'creative', be it a blog post or a pumpkin pie, or a song, and the only thing we hate more than the people who stymie our divine right to success are the people who enable it. Your existence as a fan is an indictment, because recognizing your pitiful, individual, countable humanity is an affront to the mythology we build about our sense of self. At least our critics we can kind of respect, because we have something in common: we hate ourselves.
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5 comments:
I barely enjoyed this
All chefs are soup nazis in one form or another; suffering for their craft.
These days, I'm happy just to get good value for a restaurant meal without unwittingly ordering a high colonic.
I hate you too, baby. Call me.
What's your #?
Cheffy Le Fury also managed to kind-of suggest that he would be willing to physically kick this hapless customer woman's ass, another vital component of any internet hate-belch.
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