Well, we are considered big enough to sit down ourselves. Only small kids need to be lifted into the special kiddies chair. 
Well, we either look for an empty table ourselves, or a waiter comes up and asks how many people, and then shows us an empty table.
If we called ahead and reserved for a bigger party/ fixed event, I will ask the first waiter who comes up “We reserved for the name of Smith” and he’ll say “Over that corner”.
Good lord. How old is the main focus group of this place - 6 years? I can’t imagine a European waiter putting up with this!
Well, “Macaroni Grill” sounds pretty strange already - trying to picture what grilled macaroni would be like.
There’s a chain here in PA called Pizza Oven that does the same thing. It never bothered me - except some of the guys from the office insisted on doing their names as well. I don’t guess it hurt anyone, but I’m sure the waiters had seen it before.
I believe the term ‘garcon’ went out in the 50s or 60s. If you want to address them, just call them Monsieur. Women do not wait tables in France, as a rule.
I knew Europe was a magical place, but I had no idea—even at the lowliest, rat-dropping encrusted greasy spoon, I’ll have my prandial needs attended by a highly-trained, well-paid career professional? That settles it: I’m packing my straw hat, bermuda shorts, knee-length white socks and sandals and heading for the Old World! Do they have direct flights from the U.S. to Europe these days?
I’m sure you’re joking, but I thought we were talking about restaurants? Rat-dropping encrusted places are shut down, it’s against hygiene laws. And greasy spoons are small family business, with mom and pop frying at the counter, a dozen chairs around four tables, with mom or one of the teenage /twen kids helping out the family business.
They are not considered real restaurants.
As for flights: do you mean aeroships or do you want to take a Blue Line steam ship instead?
It’s a real place.
Food’s okay. The servers tend to try to be chic, and are definately tip oriented. Single diners are last in line.
BTW; the Italian people I knew in Little Italy in NYC called just about any pasta “macaroni”. And they called the tomato sauce (ragu) “gravy”. 
This is my first posting, so hello to all.
I live in France, in the Languedoc; that curving piece of land along the Mediterranean from Spain to the Mouths of the Rhone.
Eating out: here is the way it works.
First your waiter will greet you. Even before you shake hands, you smile at him - obligatory - then press palms and wish him (it’s usually a man) 'Bon jour, Monsieur. (Garcon would now be considered disrespectful and uncouth, and guarantee lousy service.) This ritual establishes that you are not being hoity-toity. When you have firmly established your sense of goodwill, ask for a table for as many as are in the group, indicating a preference - au soleil, al’ombre (sunny/shaded).
As soon as you take your place/s the Carte (menu) will be produced, with a flourish. Study it well, but without undue delay. If you have a question, your waiter will be delighted if you call on him for help and advice. But he doesn’t have all day, so be conscious that he has other clients. A carefully pitched level of voice is best when you call him - never too loud. And the term to use, is ‘M’sieur, si’l vous plait!’
When it comes to wines, if you do not know the produce of the region, it is invariably a good idea to ask for advice. There are many pleasant experiences I have had by taking that advice. The waiter will not think you a fool; rather he will mentally compliment you on your good sense.
If there is a problem with the meal, politeness invariably wins the day. Even in the best establishments there can be an occasional meal that is less than it should be. But this should never lead to an unseemly situation. The waiter is called and the unfortunate situation is explained with regret. Handled like this, I have never known it not to be made right with extra care and attention.
When paying the bill, it is always a good idea to allow the waiter to handle the transaction. Then one will make one’s thanks, with handshakes and smiles. This is the moment when one’s appreciation can be shown for the service one has received. Of course this is a delicate matter, so one is discreet in passing one’s appreciation to one’s new friend. And it should adequately reflect the service and extra attentions you have received. This way you will be welcomed back as an old friend, and even more attention will be lavished on you.
So, it is a combination of respect on both sides, and also a social game to be enjoyed. Dining in France, if one observes the niceties, is always a great pleasure. And the waiter, even in posh places with Maitres d’Hote, is never something to overawe. He want’s you to be impressed with the establishment and it’s culinary delights, and with him too.
Bon appetit!
Directement de la bouche du cheval.
Welcome. Your reply makes me want to run out and purchase an airplane ticket.
As soon as I learn a little proper french, that is. Don’t blame me, blame google.
I must say, I don’t think I’ve ever shaken hands with a waiter. Then again, in general Spaniards only shake hands in pretty stiff social situations, like being formally introduced to a new client (big company client, not small company client).
What does this mean? How else would it work?
Cher Monsieur, it is with the utmost regret that I must bring to your thoughtful attention one or two small details—mere trifles! noticed by my companions and I, upon your delivery of this wonderful meal to our table. We are honored to be guests in your region, and as such are unfamiliar with many of your customs and traditions. It pains me to admit that we are not generally accustomed to finding—how do you say—toiles d’araignée? —spider webs, on the plates and cutlery, nor that a partially-smoked Gauloise—recently belonging to your esteemed chef, I presume? —be included as a garnish in the bisque de Crevettes. And as regards the main course, somewhat shamedly after the hospitality you have shown us, I profess surprise that the good people of your province might consider a delicacy not only viande de cheval, but apparently also its… leavings? It is only reluctantly that I bring paltry issues such as these to the notice of the good Monsieur, in anticipation of whose return to our table I remain
Your most humble and obedient servant,
V. Turnip
I know exactly why it annoys me. Because they sign their name in big flowery letters right in between you and your dining partner. Which is exactly where we wanted to play hangman or tic-tac-toe!
If you’re going to put paper and crayons on the table, don’t scribble all over the prime drawing spot. Sheesh.
Nope. In the same way that you wouldn’t call a fireman “Mr. fireman” or a plumber “Miss Plumber”'. In a small place there may only be one person serving all tables and they’ll be running about often enough for you to catch their attention.
In larger restaurants there may be more people working the floor but there is rarely the idea of a host who shows you to your table.
David Lebovitz has some useful advice to waiters in Paris :
> First your waiter will greet you. Even before you shake hands, you smile at him - obligatory - then press palms and wish him
To be honest I rarely do this in Paris; maybe only in a couple of regular haunts where the same serving staff are also the owners and have been feeding us for years.
“Garcon” is certainly capable of being misinterpreted: http://www.cnn.com/2009/WORLD/europe/10/08/france.minister.scandal/index.html?iref=mpstoryview
Lebovitz observations ring fairly true to many European countries, not just France. I have never met any European server who introduced him or herself by name. Does not occur here - I would assume it’s partly because of different tipping customs, partly because of different attitudes towards the profession itself as well as to the restaurant.
Also true that customers are also guests, to a degree. I recall one time where me and my company simply would not get any service, we had to wait thirty minutes or more to order, even after we had called for attention. The place was very busy that night, so we simply decided to leave and go somewhere else. But it was not without a bit of guilt.