James Corden has been removed from the Balthazar shit list by owner Keith McNally. Last weekend McNally had publicly called Corden “the most abusive customer” in Balthazar’s history, but now everything’s cool following profusive apologies offered by the tubby talk show host after recent abrasive behavior in the French bistro-styled Soho hot spot.
“I strongly believe in second chances,” McNally said. “Anyone magnanimous enough to apologize” to him and his staff “doesn’t deserve to be banned from anywhere.”
Last June Corden became irate and demanding when he found a hair in his food. Earlier this month Corden blew a gasket about “a little bit of egg white” in his wife’s egg yolk omelet, and then, after the dish was remade and re-served, he flipped out because the side dish was fries instead of a salad. “You can’t do your job! You can’t do your job!” Corden reportedly said to the waiter. “Maybe I should go into the kitchen and cook the omelet myself!”
But let”s not kid ourselves — just as Will Smith showed the world last March who he really was (i.e., a pissed-off guy from West Philadelphia) when he slapped Chris Rock, Corden showed the world who he really was at Balthazar — i..e., an abusive dick and a screamer. He wasn’t briefly invaded by a body snatcher — the egg-white abuser is partly who Corden is deep down. Yes, he showed maturity by apologizing and it’s not that big of a deal, but still…
And yet sometimes abuse in restaurants is directed at customers. Aural abuse, I should say. Loud vulgar music that gets in the way of conversation and makes the customer feel nauseous. It happened to me twice several years ago (2010 and 2013). Both times I asked the server to please ask management to turn it down. But management refused and so I said “eff this noise” and stiffed the server on tips. As a fair form of punishment.
I had generously tipped hundreds of times previously, and have continued to generously tip since, but loud music makes me see red. To me it felt like the restaurant owners had thrown up on my table. I fumed and seethed and responded accordingly. Not because of a little dribble of egg white or too much salad dressing or a hair in my soup (which are not capital offenses in my book — mistakes happen) but because of a decision by restaurant management to torture my soul with moron music.
Both times the response by HE readers was a dambreak of rage — poisonous, animal-level. over the top. They shrieked and howled, spat in my face, threw rocks like Arabs, called me a fascist and an ayehole and demanded that that I disembowel myself with a samurai sword. The hundreds of generous tips I had left before meant nothing. I had stiffed two waiters, and for this I had to be speared, stabbed, chopped into pieces and thrown to hungry alligators.
I finally couldn’t stand it and posted the following:
Wells to Hooded Judges: I worked as a waiter (and also a host) at three New York restaurants in the late ’70s and early ’80s, and I KNOW EXACTLY WHAT GOES. I am not my waiter’s keeper. I may tip them generously or perfunctorily or slightly or not at all based on whether or not I choose to do so, and there is absolutely no more to it than that.
As a diplomat represents his/her country, a waiter represents the restaurant, and if major offense is given, it is the unavoidable duty of that representative to accept and consider the judgment of the customer, as there is no way to convey one’s disapproval or dismay directly to management.
Despite these core beliefs, I have shown what my critics would consider appropriate appreciation and respect to waiters HUNDREDS IF NOT THOUSANDS OF TIMES BEFORE. I have obeyed the basic social requirement that you speak of (i.e., a customer will tip a waiter no matter what) so many times that if I had saved this tip money instead of going out to restaurants in the first place I would now be able to afford a down payment on a Tribeca condo.
But giving aesthetic offense is, in my view, a far more serious offense than anything related to quality of service, and waiters need to man up and accept that fact.
Expressing A CIVIL FORM OF CONTEMPT for aesthetic offense is not only an honorable and justifiable thing but a kind of Holy Requirement and a point of honor, in my humble view. Every waiter knows that every now and then, a person such as myself will sit down in their restaurant and exercise that right of free speech. TOUGH SHIT. Deal with it. It’s going to happen. Adjust your expectations.
Show me a way to express my displeasure directly to management and I will follow that course, but until that solution is found I will not sit idly by and give my obliging approval to restaurant management that refuses to change or turn down music that is an offense to All Things Decent Under The Sun & Stars.
These things, to me, like it or not, are PROFOUNDLY SERIOUS OFFENSES. Bring me the wrong dessert or even the wrong entree and I will shrug and laugh it off, whatever…but refusing to stop shoving rancid house music into my head is an act of belligerency. If you don’t agree then c’est la vie.
