There’s a particular kind of comedy in watching an American adjust to European service culture. I’m sitting in a bustling café in Portugal with my American friend, and I can feel the bewilderment radiating from her as we wait (and wait) for the waiter to take our order. She’s visibly irritated. I, on the other hand—fluent in both the perfection of American service and the laissez-faire charm of European hospitality—lean back with the detached amusement of an anthropologist. H
