Stage Fright

Hi Homo-ey,

I'm a gay man working in the theater world, in a position of some influence. Over the last couple of years, a theater producer I'd never met -- but we knew each other by reputation -- would put vaguely flirty posts on my Facebook wall. Then, two months ago, I was attending a show that he produced, and he cornered me during intermission and was quite chatty. It was clear that he was flirting with me -- he kept touching my arms, even my chest, and made one flattering remark about my body. I eventually shook his hand and said goodnight. 

The next day he hit me up by email and basically asked me out to dinner/drinks/coffee. I wasn't interested in him romantically, but I also didn't want to create any awkwardness between us, because I might well need to work with him in the future. I basically replied that I was very busy and didn't have time to get together in the near future, and that I hoped he was well. 

Then, this weekend, out of the blue, he emailed me again, proposing dinner/drinks/coffee. I'm not sure what to do. How direct should I be in expressing a lack of interest, given that we move in the same professional circles? Or should I get off my high horse and just go to dinner with him and try to make it clear that this is a friendly/working relationship? I have a feeling the latter move might lead him on. I don't know. Help!

Signed,
Broadway Baby

Dear BB,

Your query calls to mind some of my all-time favorite Broadway musicals. While your hapless hoofer keeps huffing, "God, I Hope I Get It" from A Chorus Line, you're playing South Pacific's Nellie Forbush, stuck in a perpetual loop of, "I'm Gonna Wash That Man Right Outta My Hair." While he's crooning West Side Story's "Something's Coming," you're belting out, "Good Night and Thank You" from Evita. While he's suggesting "Let's Misbehave" from Anything Goes, you're all "Please Don't Touch Me" from Young Frankenstein.

Having thereby established my own Broadway credentials, I hereby instruct you to lower the curtain on this production. And do it now...  before the second act.

Look, it sounds like you've been both pleasant and professional with this guy -- letting him know, in the nicest way possible, that your interest in him is strictly platonic. Yet he's been downright creepy, unduly persistent and utterly invasive of your personal space. (Touching your arms and chest? AT A BROADWAY SHOW?! That's almost as tacky as the use of recording devices while Patti LuPone is shrieking.)

Homo gets that your professional proximity to this person makes your position precarious. And as Noël Coward once said, "It is discouraging how many people are shocked by honesty and how few by deceit." But honest you must be.

My repsonse to your producer-in-heat's latest entreaty would be: "I'd love to get drinks with you sometime as friends. But just so there's no misunderstanding, I'm not interested in dating you." Such a reply may seem blunt or even cold, but if my instincts are right, he's the kind of guy who needs a sandbag to fall on his head in order to get the picture.

By the way: Don't be surprised if he comes back with something along the lines of, "Well, of course! I wasn't suggesting we'd be anything other than friends!" That's typical face-saving bullshit. All you have to do is say: 

"OK, I just wanted to be sure, given that we work in the same business. My apologies if I was presumptuous." You can thus play the fool and let him think he's gotten the upper hand. Homo knows otherwise,  and so do you.

I hope this helps.

Remember to Silence Your Cell Phones,
Homo

No Soup For You!

Dear Homo:
 
If your soup is cold, are you stuck with it, or do you ask the waiter to heat it up and trust no monkey business? Or am I being paranoid? Also, if the waiter disappears for most of the service so you never had a chance to order another drink or get more rolls, etc., is ten percent generous?

Signed,
Soup's On

Dear SO:

The issues you raise here are near and dear to my heart because I myself have worked as a waiter and bartender over the years. If you've never done it, I'm here to tell you that food service is one of the hardest jobs in the world. Truly. Any C-student jackass party-boy can advance to the White House (see Bush, George W.) but it takes a truly smart cookie to make a good waiter.

With those biases in mind, here's my take on your cold soup conundrum:

There is absolutely nothing wrong with sending back food when it's not prepared to your liking. You're paying good money for that soup; it should arrive nice and hot. (Unless it's vichyssoise or gazpacho, in which case sending it back will make you look dumber than W.)

But the key here is attitude. The waiter didn't prepare the soup, so it's almost never his fault when it arrives cold. Given that, when you send the soup back, show some respect and civility: "Excuse me, Sir? I hate to trouble you, but my soup is really cold. Do you think you could have the chef heat it up for me?"

I guarantee you that unless he's a total psycho, the waiter will do nothing more than apologize profusely and bring you new soup, without any kind of monkey business. (And honestly, even when customers were hideous toward me, I never fouled anyone's food or beverage. It's a really sick thing to do, and I valued my job too much in any case.)

As for the second part of your query, whether a ten percent tip is "generous" for inattentive service: No. Ten percent is never generous. But such a meager tip (or no tip at all) may be justified in certain circumstances.

Always ask yourself this: Did the waiter make a sincere effort to provide you with good service? Because maybe he did, and maybe the problem was that the restaurant was severely understaffed, and your waiter was forced to juggle too many tables. Try to assess the situation fairly, and tip accordingly.

My own rule of thumb is as follows: Good service gets a 20 percent tip. Adequate service gets 15 percent. Shitty service gets 10. And if the waiter was downright hostile, or if my soup arrived garnished with a giant loogey, no tip for you.

I hope this helps.

Just put the tip in,
Homo