We do. For in these recessionary times, Restaurant Greeters are the new homeless: Ignored, spat-upon (well, maybe, probably if it’s a weekend night in Old City) and generally just more desperate than even you or I. Since we’ve relocated to Old City, we’ve noticed that these greeters/hostesses line the streets here, trying hawk up business for restaurants most of us never wanted to go to in the first place: Joints that serve apple-tinis, goofball fusion cuisine that is most likely prefab food service garbage, and restaurants that just really want to be (and often are) douchebag bars, just biding the time until The Douche Class of Philadelphia is ready to get its Ice on. And these are the women they send out into the street to do their evil, sub-par bidding: They’re fresh-faced, they’re nice, they’re enthusiastic… and they’re doomed. (Imagine having “greeter at Marmont” on your resume. Just imagine it.) It’s a form of human trafficking, and it must stop. Shame on the restaurateurs pushing these young ladies into the street; if you see one, don’t give them your mealtime. Give them your business card, and a real job. Remember: You were looking for a break once, too.
[Photo: Elizabeth Malleus]