america

So I had the meatballs in the IKEA restaurant yesterday. As can be expected, the restaurant has a Swedish set-up: An efficient counter where you get a tray, silverware, and choose your food. If your choice is a hot dish, the plate is handed to you across the counter. Cold plates are displayed in cold cases, and you just pick one.

You pay, and take your tray to a table.

When you are finished, you put your tray on racks that can be wheeled into the kitchen where everything will be washed.

And this is where Sweden ends, and America begins: In Sweden you would put your tray in the rack yourself. There would be rules for you to follow, like putting paper napkins in a trashcan on the side, or scraping your plate and dispose of whatever food you didn't finish in a bin. Everybody would do this. If you didn't, you would get dirty looks from fellow eaters.

In America, you approach the racks, prepare to slide your tray in, and discover that on the other side of the rack a young woman is waiting. It's her job to receive your tray. She will take your paper napkin off and trash it, and, I am sure, even though I didn't wait around to check this, scrape your plate.

The station with the racks sits in the middle of the restaurant. The girl stands there and waits between customers.

Yes, it's an extra level of service. It's to make sure the scraping gets done and the leftovers won't dry on the plates, as Americans aren't trained scrapers like the Swedes.

And, it's another mind numbing minimum wage job.