Do you trust your favorite restaurant?

Trust. Sometimes it’s earned. Sometimes it’s given without a second thought. When it comes to restaurants, customers give it away freely for the most part. At least initially, think about it. Let’s say that I walk into a new burger joint for my first time. My expectation is that regardless of whether or not I end up liking the food, I assume that it will be safe to eat. I assume that strict food safety guidelines are in place. I assume that the business has passed inspection. I assume the entire staff washes their hands with hot water and anti-bacterial soap after each trip to the restroom. I assume no one ever drops a hamburger patty or steak on the floor and then puts it back on a plate to be served. I assume that the cooking and wait staffs are all congenial people who would never take out their frustrations on an unsuspecting customer. I don’t think twice about the possibility of a psycho-killer cook putting cyanide ketchup on my burger. I lend my trust-to put potentially hazardous materials into my body-based on assumptions. And if I don’t die or get sick, then my trust endures.

But it’s probably happened somewhere, sometime before. Have you ever seen the movie “Waiting”? Makes ‘ya think, doesn’t it? Sure it does, but you still eat out. And why? Because these days, not everyone has time to cook for themselves at the drop of a hat. Or sometimes we’re just too lazy. We sacrifice reason at the altar of convenience. We risk possible death or sickness every day for its sake. We do the same thing when we drive vehicles. And though I am sure I will probably eat out tonight, it just seems silly to me when put into perspective.

Let’s say that tomorrow I win the lottery. I am now super rich. I have more money than I will ever need. Next month, I’m driving an Aston-Martin. I am less likely to trust a friend out of my sight behind the wheel of my new exotic sports car than I am to trust some guy who I have never met to prepare something for me to put INSIDE OF MY BODY. I can replace the car. Remember, I’m rich. Super rich. Can’t replace my body, though.

That’s one reason why I tip well and NEVER complain. I will never (at least intentionally) give anyone a reason to “get me in the gut”. NEVER. I have enough friends who work in that business and have heard enough stories from them that the only way for me to eat out is to have this blind faith that as long as I am nice, they will be too. Let’s just hope that’s the way it is in the real world.