Everything Is Fabulous Tonight, Save the Waiterspeak

Why can’t waiters talk like normal people?

Of course, most do. Certainly the best do. It’s just that I can’t help noticing contorted language creeping into the service lately.

A waiter announces to our table one night, “We have everything save the pigeon.”

Evidently, he’s so enamored of this turn of phrase, he repeats it. “Save the pigeon?” my guest asks, turning to me, puzzled. “Except the pigeon,” I murmur.

Exasperated, my guest whispers back. “Well, why didn’t he just say that? Where did he come up with language like that? Probably from watching too many PBS shows with the costumes and the big hats.”

For years, if you ordered red meat in a restaurant, waiters would ask, “How would you like that cooked?” Now the fashion almost everywhere seems to be, “What temperature would you like?” No one’s expecting you to answer “precisely 140 degrees,” I don’t think. The reply expected is still rare, medium rare or medium. So where did this awkward phrasing come from? Even worse, once you’ve carved into your meat, your waiter will come back to ask, “Is the temperature to your liking?”

Who talks like this?

Does some hospitality business academy send around a directive detailing the latest lingo?

This year, those anonymous wordsmiths have come up with a doozy. I hear “Please excuse my reach” over and over in the same service--each time the waiter sets down the bread, pours water or wine across the table, or sets down a plate. This generally happens when you’re seated at a table (usually a booth or banquette) where it’s impossible to serve easily from all sides.

What’s wrong with a simple “Excuse me”? It’s polite. It’s to the point.

“Excuse my reach” sounds as if the waiter is apologizing for having an arm. It’s obsequious and intrusive. And I’m sure he or she feels just as uncomfortable using this stilted phrase as we do hearing it.

Not that I’m longing to go back to the days when waiters felt compelled to introduce themselves, give you a rundown on what they liked on the menu and insert themselves into the conversation at the table.

What’s to be done about servers who come up to the table, sometimes before you’ve barely had a chance to take a bite, to ask, “Is everything outstanding?” Or, a variant I heard recently, “Is everything fabulous?”

What are you supposed to say? Invoke your right to remain silent? A more comfortable way to phrase the question would be, “How was your meal?” And to pose it just once, at the end of the evening.

Even so, most people will shrug off a “fine” or “wonderful” just to get off the hook. I’m wondering: If someone did take the trouble to answer thoughtfully and honestly, would anyone really want to know?