the guests at table 41 are making out. the couple at 42, scowling. i can’t say i blame any of them, there’s only about two feet physical distance between the tables; a mirrored alcove of intimacy and starched white linen, the tables standalone yet banquetted together as they look out over the enormous gray and ivory dining room. a paper soigné for each couple lies folded in the small front pocket of my deep navy-blue custom tailored j. crew suit. they read “owner of NYC restaurant, newly engaged” & “friends of Chef Barbara, celebrating 38 years of marriage” respectively. we haven’t yet received our Relais & Chateâux distinction but Devra First did just give us 4 stars in the Boston Globe and while business has never exactly boomed in this part of town or this dining room, things are looking up. i greet both tables with the fluidity & form of an aging ballerina in flats. a low bun is at the nape of my neck. a warm polished smile at my lips. glistering glasses of scomped sparkling wine balance atop a burnished cocktail tray: a delicate Italian Brut Rosé for the love birds and a sparkling grower champagne for the Cambridge faithful. in their own time, the women at each table will remark on the stunning stemware, it’s beauty and edgy design. they’ll both wonder aloud where they can buy it and so i’ll spiel them the story of how exactly the stunning Austrian glassware came to be one of Menton’s signature trademarks: hand foraged by renowned Boston sommelier and our very own goddess of the grapes Cat Silirie, each stem and chalice is hand blown as one. i’m sure to give them each my sincerest waning smile when i break the news that sadly, it will be months before Zalto (denk’art) will be available for retail sale here in the United States. before i depart i direct their attention to the etching at the base of the paper-thin champagne flutes (dishwasher safe, can you imagine?!), how this one tiny detail (moussierpunkt!) ensures their bubbly will continue to bubble for the entirety of its time in the glass. as i slip softly from the table an even quieter colleague arrives in my wake to crumb non-existent canapé dust from the table and mise it with two tiny sterling silver spoons; the butter soup is in route.
{s.santos2023}
about this writing
what a welcome reprieve it was to write this bit of flash fiction inspired by true-ish events! a long time ago in a land far away, i had the extraordinary opportunity to live the life of a service industry-hospitality ninja (by night anyway!) so much of my life was shaped by the dynamic people i met and worked next to and the incredible places & spaces i was lucky enough to experience in Boston for the better part of my ten years there. this is my first time writing about my time as a server and in this iteration an opening service captain for the restaurant Menton. i never returned to the restaurant industry after i left Menton in the summer of 2011, this was a sweet trip back ~ thanks for reading! xo
santos scribes 
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