Front-line advice from the Independent’s schoolteacher/ waitress diarist after a torrid evening at Roomba.
June 25, 2006
FYI: Underwear and Lingerie Must Remain on the Body While Dining at a Fine Restaurant.
I’ll just put it like this: Roomba is a fun restaurant. It’s laid-back; it’s got a great atmosphere. Some might even refer to the ambiance, especially in the summer months, as “sensual.” However — no matter what adjectives one might use to describe the place, there is absolutely no excuse to remove one’s undergarments while dining. Nor is there any excuse, regardless of how much alcohol is in the mojitos or how many oysters one may have eaten, to make out at a table with such force that buttons on a shirt actually fly off across the room.
I say this because this happened on Friday. The couple didn’t even make it through a single round of drinks before being asked to leave. When I saw them, which was probably not more than ten minutes after they arrived, the gentleman’s entire head was shoved down into the woman’s shirt. Perhaps this would have been all right had the couple been seated in an area where there were no other humans around. However, in a small restaurant like Roomba, this is never the case. In fact, this couple was seated directly opposite from three young women who, as the minutes passed, looked more and more frightened.
It goes without saying that the two were making all of us, including the staff (because word spreads quickly and we all had to see what was going on), uncomfortable. So when all was said and done, and the couple had been asked to take their passion elsewhere, we found out that the woman had somehow removed her undergarments, or else had them removed: bra and underwear both.
How is this possible? Two days later, I’m still baffled. But even more, what makes people think that that kind of affection is appropriate A) in public, B) in a fine restaurant and C) in front of people who are eating? Listen. I know people love each other; I know people are attracted to each other. But come on, people. That’s just disgusting. And it’s not cool and it makes you look sleazy. And you might also become the poor victim of one server’s judgment on her blog.
So while Friday may have been the most uncomfortable night at Roomba since I began, Saturday more than made up for it. My tables were all so nice. I was able to meet some new people, recommend some great dishes to them, and have a generally fun time. I usually have a lot of fun while working; and when tables talk to me like a real person, it makes my night even better. I met one group of people who I told I’m moving to Brazil, and they were so happy. One of the women, who works in the Bridgeport school system, told me that her Brazilian students are her favorites. She says they value education, that they consistently perform among the top students in their classes, and are generally good kids. I think if I’m nervous for anything, it’s what the kids are going to be like. I know how to talk to my kids here; I know what they think is funny, I know what they’re interested in. I know the language of New Haven 9th graders. I don’t know the language of Campinas 7th graders. Literally, I don’t know Brazilian Portuguese. And it’s going to take me a long time to learn both how to speak the language and how to speak my students’ language.