We’ve all encountered situations
where someone has said, “I’m just being honest.” (Insert annoyingly whiny
voice.) Admittedly, I’ve said it too. Sometimes it feels so good to be honest,
even though seconds later you’re deeply regretting your words as you see the
person on the receiving end’s reaction. I’ll never forget when I said something
hurtful to my grandmother as a child. I was immediately sent to my room by my
mother, but of course I snuck out to hear what they were saying about me. Years
later, I still remember as my mom said, “I don’t understand why she has a mouth
like that. It’s not how I raised her.” And my grandmother responded, “But how
can you fault her when what she says is true.”
It really stung. Knowing that I was speaking the “truth” but that didn’t
make me right, or mean that I was a nice person for saying it.
Then there are other situations
where honesty may not be hurtful, but it’s just unnecessary… and possibly gross. Case in point: My family recently went to
Morton’s The Steakhouse to celebrate my brother’s wedding anniversary and his
wife’s birthday. I’ve always thought of Morton’s as a high-end chain with good
quality food. (They certainly have the price tags to support such a notion.) I was
working the night my family went out so I couldn’t make it, but boy do I wish I
could’ve been there to witness what happened next! Someone (who shall remain
nameless) at the table asked the server if there were any end cuts. The server
said no, but apparently seemed tentative as if she was new and thus unsure of
her answer. To verify, the unnamed guest went to the host to ask her to find
out if there were, in fact, no end cuts available. A few minutes later, the
chef AND the general manager of the restaurant approach the table. Now I think
it’s important to mention that on their website Morton’s proudly proclaims to
have “The Best Steak Anywhere.” Really? Is that why the chef brought a steak to
the table IN A PLASTIC BAG?
Yes, ladies and gentlemen—I will
address you formerly since I am in the hospitality industry too but I actually
KNOW how to treat people properly—my horrified family found themselves staring
at a pre-cut steak in a plastic bag. The chef went on to explain that all their
steaks come into the restaurant like that and they have no control over the
cuts they get. And apparently, he was miffed, as if my family had some nerve
asking about the menu. How’s that for gracious hospitality? Answer: It’s a
total fail. Possible alternative: How about you INSTEAD come to the table and
POLITELY inform my family there are NO end cuts available?
When I’m trying to de-clutter myapartment and reorganize my clothes closet, that’s the time to bluntly remind
me I wore that SAME red shirt to a Bon Jovi concert back in 1988 and now’s the
time to let it go. Brutal honesty is welcomed
and appreciated in that scenario. But
telling me that you can’t remove the mushrooms from the quesadilla at T.G.I.
Fridays because they come to the restaurant pre-made AND frozen is just disgusting. (Another true story AND epic fail.) Find a tactful way to let me know it’s simply not possible. I don’t need to
know all the gory details. Let’s face it, sometimes we just don’t want to see
behind the curtain and realize “The Great Wizard of Oz” is just a balding old
man. Let us have our magic!
What about Morton’s, you might be
asking? I personally think a phone call to their corporate office is in order,
but I will leave that to my family who was actually there to witness the
atrocity. As for me, I think it’s given me food for thought (yes, I had to go
there). Honesty is something I value very highly, but there needs to be
boundaries, on my own behavior as well as everyone else’s. You hear that,
Morton’s? There is something to be said for telling tactful truths. No need to let the brutes inside us win.
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