US service culture and the baffling bill

I’m back in the US and the place is as remarkable and baffling as it always is. Actually I’m in Washington – which, somehow, I have never visited before. I like it. It’s one of the few American cities that has a real sense of history about it.

I was strolling down the road last night and walked past some square somewhere on 13th St and started reading this historical information pillar cemented into the ground – you know, an historical walks style of thing. And it outlined what had happened in which corner. The square used to be a spring and was chosen by the president to supply the White House with water, and then this house was used by such-and-such a general during the civil war and Lincoln ofter used to walk past on his way back to his house, and so on. It made me want to learn more about the real details of the US Civil War.

Of course there are some ironies. Like, for example, the beautiful fire station that has been preserved by whose lookout tower now yields a view of approximately 10 yards either side and 100 yards at the front because of the new super-structures built up around it. I’m in town for the weekend so I am actually hope to be a tourist for once and do the sites – Jefferson Memorial, maybe Lincoln Memorial, Vietnam Memorial, White House, Congress, Washington, Smithsonian, Air and Space Museum (which three people have recommended now). And so on.

Funny restaurants and bills

But to get quickly to the title of my blog post. I decided last night I would go out for food (I didn’t want to eat in my hotel, and I didn’t want to pay hotel prices either). So I set off around downtown. I decided not to bother with a map and a known location because then the pleasant element of discovery is ruined by the rational goal-setting mind. So I was having a wander about admiring some of the architecture, pondering how less threatening Washington is than other US cities – especially considering the crime figures of DC (I am assuming the average is bumped up by some mainly black ghettos somewhere out of town). But after about 40 minutes of strolling I started getting hungry and realised I had seen only one food place – a kebab house – in all that time.

So I decided to go into the next place I saw offering food and eventually, I spotted a “Restaurant and Pool Hall” so decided I would go in there, get a cheap burger or something. As it turned out, the place was a really weird combination of a quite-posh restaurant at the front and a lowdown and dirty pool hall in the back. Only one did food, but the people from the pool hall had to walk through the restaurant to get out. So every now and again someone with a few drinks in them and occasionally in a raucous mood came strolling past your table and made whatever comment entered his head about people eating fancy food.

Actually it was very cheap considering the service and quality of the food – $22 for chicken with walnut on a bed of mushroom risotto with cameralised onions. But when the bill came I realised that the US service culture had started becoming the one thing I always feared it would – a series of inexplicable taxes that actually undermine the pretence that the goods you buy are cheaper than you imagined.

Charges

So there was the chicken – $22. And then a glass of wine – $10 (expensive you would think until you saw the size of the glass). But then there’s a 15% gratuity added – $4.80. And then on top of that a sales tax of $3.20. And then – despite the gratuity – a Service Charge of $4.80 (15%). What was the gratuity for then? And why has the service charge been added automatically? But *then* the receipt asks you if you want to add a tip! What exactly am I tipping here?

Anyway, this is America and the waiter’s survive on tips (don’t they?) so I add a purposefully measly $2 to all this as a kind of complaint at being presented with three extra charges and then being asked for more for some ill-defined purpose. I am sure the waiter missed the point entirely and thought I was a tight-arse, but there you go.

And here’s another thing about Washington – none of the cabs have meters. As far as I have seen they just make it up as they go along. I was going to be late for a breakfast meeting yesterday morning if I walked the 10-15 minutes walk so I jumped in a cab. He took about two minutes to get there and declared it was $7.50. He just made it up. So I said “$7.50, huh? How exactly did you arrive at that figure?” To which he responded, no doubt for the 10,000th time in his career: “‘Cause that how much it cost.” What sort of city has cabs without meters? Am I missing something here? To actively design a system where anyone travelling around the city can be ripped off every journey they take is madness.

So I’ve just added another oddity to the list of America’s schizophrenic behaviour. One early this month was when I was nearly arrested for filming the outside of a court building. A building which I had been allowed to walk all around, go in, go up and down, and in and out all morning. I was filming openly. I am white and English. And yet someone was panicked enough to call the security guard and he insisted on seeing my passport and threatened to delete my tape.

America is like some fascinating and rich but eccentric and occasionally violent uncle.