We don’t like you.

A message to food influencers from the restaurant industry.

We don’t need you anymore.

You don’t actually do anything. Your opinion means nothing. It’s subjective. Food is subjective. Everyone tastes differently. Everyone cooks differently. You’re not offering value. You’re just making it about you.

The gluttony. The greed. The status chasing. The need to be seen. The constant flexing of wealth and access. I think I speak for a lot of people when I say we’re tired of it.

You don’t love food. You love attention. You love overindulging because of how it makes you feel. You’re chasing dopamine. And I’m sure, like most people, you have plenty of other vices too.

Most of you don’t even tip.

You call restaurants before you walk in like some low-rent local celebrity, announcing your arrival to the hostess.

“Oh boy! Thank God you’re here, middle-aged influencer. Please grace us with your presence.”

You show up and act like you “put the place on the map.” You take credit for restaurants that were already busy. You order everything on the menu hoping something gets comped, then act like you’re doing us a favor.

You’re not.

I don’t see you cook. Ever.

Not once.

You don’t try. You don’t ask questions. You pretend you’re supporting local businesses when you don’t even understand what “local” actually means.

You don’t work shifts. You’re not interested in anything except consuming. Over and over and over again.

Where is the value in that?

You eat. You drink. You overindulge. You post. Then you do it again.

You’re one step away from a Roman vomitorium.

Congratulations.

You’re a professional customer.

You’re a guest.

You’re a tourist.

And I want to make this clear: this is not jealousy.

I don’t want your job. I don’t want to be Cincinnati-famous. I don’t want people knowing who I am. I don’t want to go viral. I don’t need to be seen at the hottest restaurants in town.

I want to live a simple, quiet life with my son. I want to cook food, make fun of people like you, and help others.

I know what I’ve been doing the last few years.

I know where my heart is.

My conscience is clean.

I’ve talked to other cooks. Bartenders. Dishwashers. Servers. Hosts. Managers. I’ve heard the stories about you, especially here in our city.

You’re not respected.

We don’t like you.

We smile to your face because we’re forced to. Because owners and managers are scared of you. Because the algorithm runs the show now.

But behind the scenes?

We talk shit about you.

Constantly.

You found one of the easiest grifts on Earth: eating and drinking.

Now you’re walking around pretending you’re part of the industry. Pretending you understand something you’ve never actually been a part of.

Like you matter more than the people doing the actual work.

You don’t.

And you never have.

This whole thing happened because we let it happen.

Restaurants handed you the keys. We gave you gift cards, free food, and permission to walk all over us.

And for what?

A repost?

A reel with no measurable return?

A monotone, half-assed video of a poorly lit meal?

Cheers, bitches.

Yick.

Fuck outta here.

Stop giving these people free food. Stop bowing down. Treat them like everyone else.

Take your industry back.

Food influencers should be the ones respecting us.

Not the other way around.

We don’t need them.

They need us.

All my best to you! ;) -Tony