I’ll be the first to forewarn that this post is rife with unwarranted self-righteousness and self-entitlement. Proceed at your own peril.

Now, let’s talk about the service in the food industry in Venice. There are many reasonable complaints by waitresses and workers in the United States because the system of tipping leads to underpayment. When you’re buying a cheap hamburger, you forget that the cut in price affects the earnings of the workers if you don’t tip. This can lead to a food industry of waiters and waitresses attempting to ingratiate themselves to companies. This also feeds into the pace of dining and lack of relaxation in the United States—you’re in and out, food, checks and water are brought promptly, and waiters are constantly asking about your level of satisfaction with the food. This is not so in Italy. This is perhaps systematic of a different eating culture and lifestyle pace. Many people will joke about Italy being slow and laid-back. I can tell you now that not one of those comments is exaggerated.

I appreciate being left to my own devices, don’t get me wrong. In Paris, lounging about a café for several hours without being chased out by pleasantries and pointed “can I get you anything else?”’s was lovely. A built in fika hour for coffee and a treat in Sweden was a cultural nuance that I wished I could implement for the rest of my life. I was prepared for a similar experience in Venice, but compared to France, which also includes a surplus charge in prices to accommodate worker’s “ample” payment, waiters and waitresses in Italy are practically surly. The concept of a café culture isn’t prevalent in Venice, but restaurants have similar attitudes towards efficiency in food settings. At least in Paris, if one asks for a check or a box, it takes less than a half an hour to get their attention. I’ll use an anecdote of an Indian restaurant many of those on the program went to together. Often I attribute poor service to the fact that we’re Americans, and of course we have moments of being obnoxious. But I try to be very conscious of that fact. In this case, we were relatively well-behaved. Everything was going well until we were attempting to leave. It was just as a few more groups were coming into the restaurant, which might have seemed like the perfect time to free up a table for incoming guests by giving us our check quickly. Instead, we waited over a half an hour, reminding a waiter now and then feebly (because they most definitely did forget us at more than one point), and watching them seat people outside under a canopy in the pouring rain. Then the check was divided strangely (the one time we actually get a check split, and it’s done incorrectly). The final test was to get a couple of to-go boxes. Ironically, when we went to the “Wild Wild West” restaurant, a hilariously problematic parody of an American restaurant, the serve modeled that of America’s.

We’ve had more unfriendly waiters, waitresses, and people behind counters, than we have had friendly ones. Often, if you don’t order a drink they look legitimately disappointed in you. Getting one to crack a smile is a feat. Attracting the attention of the waiters at a restaurant down the road turned into a game, as we each tried and failed. We enter the grocery store down the street fearing for our pride, for the cashiers is notoriously grumpy. I’ve only gone a couple of times, and each time has been a test of patience more than anything. The lines can get atrocious if you go when everyone gets off work. It’s partially the number of people, it’s partially the lackadaisical nature of the cashiers. I think perhaps our grocery store down the road is a good representation of “service culture” in Italy—as Patrick put it, “They’re just living their lives, it just happens to be behind a counter”—they’re slow and they laugh and they still have personality. It’s not a service industry, but an industry of community. Sure, it gets some getting used to, but it’s a nice reminder that cashiers and waiters and waitresses are not smiling robots and Italy’s pace isn’t inspired by a capitalist flavor of servitude. Our guide Guido describes Venice life-well. One can live here just fine, but everything goes at its own pace. Everyone travels by water. If you miss a vaporetto, that’s just part of life, you gotta wait. One can’t hasten the journey via car. I think that the relaxed way of considering time, rather than the constantly hyper-scheduled life style in some other countries, bleeds into everything, including the “service” culture. I wish that Americans could learn to take a breath now and again as well.