I’m sure we’ve had this discussion before, but let’s have it again. Today a scholarly reader with a head for poetry and a bod for Roman literature writes:
I wonder whether you might perform a public service, either yourself or with the help of your readers, and make a list of those restaurants in which there is little noise, no music, no blaring televisions, and no noise-enhancing tiles. The situation is getting worse. Although I am a senior citizen, I have perfect hearing.
Today I went to the almost comical “Social,”[I believe he is referring to Social House] in the cursed spot which the blessed Baby Routh occupied thirty years ago. I asked whether there was a spot where music was not blaring. “Certainly” said the hostess, and led us to what looked a quiet side room (which I recalled from the restaurant’s incarnation as a Sardinian bistro). No sooner had we been seated that I realized that “no music” meant “loud football games.” After a few minutes I asked the helpful server (who gave me his name, another thing I loathe about restaurants) if he could turn down the volume of the sports events. “No problem” he replied eagerly.
Two minutes later the volume on the televisions went down. Guess what? The music came back on.
What does this mean? It means that silence of any sort is considered treacherous, dangerous, and unattractive.
So, for you and your readers: where is a quiet boîte du quartier without noise, where people can have civilized conversation?