I just read a fantastically entertaining Slate article about what becomes of the birthday party between college and marriage: it "transmogrifies" into the dreaded group birthday dinner (an event so agonizing that it led the author to curse his birthday buddy in the title of the column, rendering it relatively unfit for quoting here).
Besides the annoyance of the long tables which often prevent one from even talking to the birthday girl or gal in question, and in addition to the uncomfortableness of forced conversation with his or her college/high school/work friends that you don't know, there is also, of course, the wretchedly exhorbitant tab. Which is an even bigger problem if, "as is often the case at birthday dinners, several different tax brackets were represented at the table."
Here's an excerpt from the author's tale:
Given the built-in gratuity for a party of our size, our waiter clearly realized there was nothing to lose by making the hard sell. He was getting 18 percent of whatever he could push on us, so he might as well give it a healthy shove. For an appetizer, he vigorously recommended the frutti di mare platter—an item accompanied on the menu by the dreaded "market price" designation. Working each flyleaf of the table separately, he managed to sell us three of these massive, adjustable-rate heaps of shrimp and lobster tail. One would have sufficed.
Can you imagine? I would be dying already, and before the actual orders are even taken! Usually in these birthday dinner situations, the tab is split evenly among everybody except the Birthday Person. The math is too complex - and unseemly - to attempt to split it otherwise. According to the author there are three strategies for dealing with the Birthday Dinner order.
Approach Number One:
Boldy secede from the tab. You can offer some justification such as "I'm not drinking tonight" or "I'm just going to have the salad," but however you slice it this strategy requires "unabashed cheapskatedness" the likes of which are rarely seen.
Approach Number Two:
Order as inexpensively as possible, "in an attempt to foster a norm of fiscal conservatism at the table" - or at least to lower the average cost per person. Of course this strategy is not typically successful unless you have a somewhat forceful personality. You could, for instance, berrate your fellow diners directly when they order their 3rd $12 cocktail or the "lobster for two" for one.
Approach Number Three:
Order offensively. This is the author's favorite: "If I'm going to be subsidizing the sybaritic corporate lawyer at the end of the table (who, I happen to know, wouldn't think of ordering a beer unless it was brewed by a Trappist monk), you'd better believe he's going to be paying for a tract of my baked Alaska."
I have to admit I have purposely used approach number three myself more than once. I've been at group dinners where I wanted to stop at 2 drinks, but when others started ordering a third I defiantly did as well. No way was I going to subsidize their orders, but I was somehow OK with purchasing more as long as I consumed it.
What is your strategy when dealing with group dinners?
No comments:
Post a Comment