More than a few of you have commented on the inquiry from that guest I mentioned earlier this week- the one who asked if I’d noticed a “dip” in business during the pandemic. I certainly appreciate your sympathetic comments, but it made me notice a thing or five.
Thing one: this is a restaurant, so while no one escaped feeling the pandemic in some way, pretty much everyone we interact with will have been *relatively* unscathed by it. If you’re joining us, you feel comfortable spending a piece of your disposable income on an evening out. And you actually have disposable income.
Thing two: good for you if you’re dining out. There’s no need to feel a pang of guilt about it- people are affected by disaster in different ways and people give back in different ways. I can assure you that the crew here VERY much appreciates your dining out.
Thing three: we don’t all cross paths with those who’ve been more trampled than we by the whole thing, but it behooves us all to pause from time to time and remember they’re out there. Have you noticed more homeless people out, despite the fact that it’s 114 degrees? That’s because there are more. Do you not see much of your friends with kids? Maybe it’s because they can’t afford the sudden jump in the need for child care.
Thing four: besides remembering that there are others more adversely affected than we are, we need to realize that what we see at a given moment is only a tiny bit of the story. If the person who asked if we noticed a dip in business had been here at noon, when the restaurant is empty because we still can’t put together enough staff to open for lunch, he might not have needed to ask. If you go to another restaurant and you’re plagued by your server’s ineptitude, maybe it’s because that restaurant (or retailer, or pretty much any business right now) was at a crossroads and had to either reopen or close its doors forever, so they hired one of the small handful of people that answered and ad, and that’s all they’ve got to work with.
Thing five: for every moment when someone has inadvertently said something insensitive, completely oblivious to our trials and tribulations, we’ve likely done the same to someone else. As my dear old dad is fond of saying, “we’re all the center of our own universe,” and by dint of that truism, we’re unable to understand what it’s like to be at the center of someone else’s. My plan is to strap on my jetpack and at least try to visit someone else’s universe today. That crabby person who doesn’t like the shrimp? Maybe it’s not really about the shrimp.
We’re visiting six apartment buildings full of painful universes next week, dropping in to offer food and a link to the humanity, kindness and generosity of a few dozen other universes, and we hope you’ll consider being one of those few dozen. Here’s a blurb about our next donation run, a week from tomorrow:
Leading up to it is the usual assortment of reasons to treat yourself or someone you love to something special as well. There’s Saturday’s wine tasting, of course,
and Father’s Day right behind it,
and then some Spanish treats to celebrate the bonfires of San Juan.
We also just have regular old dinner at Feast, seating from 4 to 8 pm every day but Monday, and with any luck, soon to be from 11 am to 8 pm every day but Monday.
Little by little, we’re inching our way back to civilized hours, and we’d love to see you. Thanks, all of you, for everything.