“Never attribute to malice that which is adequately explained by stupidity.” -Hanlon’s Razor

Some people are just dumb. It doesn’t matter how old they are, how much experience they’ve accumulated, or even if they’ve taken classes at elite colleges to put pieces of paper on their walls. Think of the first two laws of human stupidity by Carlo Cipolla:

1). Always and inevitably, everyone underestimates the number of stupid individuals in circulation.

2). The probability that a person is stupid is independent of any other characteristic of that person. Education, wealth or status have nothing to do with it.

I can tell you with 100% confidence my 17 years of bartending has confirmed the validity of these laws. I’ve seen lawyers, professors, and doctors get drunk and act like idiots, only to lose their spouses, jobs, and reputations. I’ve seen pastors shamed for hate speech and an addictions counsellor trying to sell weed at my bartop. Don’t even get me started on teachers… sorry mom. 

Don’t get me wrong, anyone can dumb at times and I’m no exception. I once slipped and fell on my back at the grocery store on the wet floor despite there being a warning sign next to it! As one of the workers rushed towards me and asked if I hurt anything all I could say was “only my pride.” 

But sometimes the level of stupidity people are capable of can truly be shocking.

***

I was serving the lounge during an afternoon shift at my least favourite job. This may have been on the downward slope, where I was starting to check out of the place given how I ultimately reacted to the situation. The place was relatively dead and I think most of the staff was gone as I don’t remember telling anyone what transpired.

A man walked in and was sat at one of the booths near the windows. He was a bigger fellow, probably in his 30s, and seemed a bit oblivious to the world around him. He wasn’t high or drunk, nor did he suffer from any noticeable disability. The man just seemed like one of the those people who walk through life without direction, purpose, or curiosity. Before you judge me a study once showed most people would rather be electrically shocked than left alone with their thoughts (google it). I can’t say I necessarily blame them, I’ve often over-analyzed and thought about everything to death and it can be painful, all consuming, and self-destructive.

He ordered the riblets, which were on special, and probably a coke. As he was in no mood for small talk and I wasn’t inclined to encourage it, I put in the order and brought him his beverage. Before the meal came out I brought him presets: Utensils, wet naps, and a SIDE PLATE. Why a side plate you ask… to place the discarded bones on after he chewed his riblets. Common sense right?

A few minutes later I entered the kitchen, made sure the meal was finished, hot, and presentable, and brought it out to the man. I asked him if he required anything else, he said no, so I left him to eat his lunch.

***

In the restaurant industry we have this thing called a “quality check.” This is where you check on the customer a few minutes after they’ve begun their meal to see if everything is alright. For example, they may want a side of ranch or their steak redone. You can always tell whether or not a restaurant really cares about customer service if they bother doing quality checks.

Therefore, three minutes after dropping off the man’s food I dutifully went to perform a quality check. Halfway to the table I slowed, then stopped, and stared at the man in disgust. There was about 8 inches between his riblet basket and the side plate where he was supposed to discard the bones. Instead, this grown man, who had the right to vote, drink, gamble, and smoke was dropping the expended bones directly on the table BETWEEN the basket and side plate! 

I was shocked… perhaps even dismayed. How stupid can you be to not understand the purpose of a side plate? At first I didn’t know how to react, most likely being unsure how to approach the situation. Eventually I thought “fuck it,” and walked up to the table. The exchange probably went something like this:

“Hello sir, how are the riblets?” I said.

“Oh, pretty good, thanks,” he might have said, dropping more bones onto the table top.

“Good to hear… you know you can use the side plate for the bones right?” I continued in a forced professional tone. 

“Oh… okay,” I think is how he responded before dropping one last bone on the table.

***

I lost it. I pushed the rib basket aside, grabbed the saliva covered bones littering the table with one bare hand, and dropped them onto the side plate. This was done in a quick, sweeping motion lasting less than two seconds. He uttered a surprised “oh, sorry,” as I walked away coldly. 

His meal was almost done and lunch was ending so I came back with his bill and a more appropriate demeanour. He paid, said “thank you” earnestly, and I mustered a “have a wonderful day” in a perfunctory manner. The man left without incident and showed no displeasure despite my blatant unprofessionalism to prove a point.

Because he hadn’t dumped the bones on the table out of malice or because he may have been uncouth. He did it out of stupidity. To this day I think he had no idea what the side plate was for until my “demonstration” educated him.