I went to Spacca Napoli the other night and, for the second visit in a row, felt like I was getting the bum’s rush out of there. To be fair, it was late. We showed up at 9:50, and they close at 10. But there was a line ten diners strong still waiting for tables, and when I asked if they were still seating the dude said “yes, yes, of course.”

So we waited, and we got a table, and we got a delicious, delicious pizza (prosciutto and maybe three different cheeses, but still light and clean-tasting thanks to fresh cherry tomatoes).

By 10:30 or so we were the only table left in our room–though the other room was still buzzing with chatty eaters. I was licking cheese from my fingers when the staff started throwing chairs up on tables and trotted out the broom. Again, I was late; I’m sure it had been a long day and I believe everybody deserves to go home in a timely fashion. But if you’re going to seat me, feed me, and take my money, is it too much to ask that you not start mopping until I’m out the door?

Am I being oversensitive? Is it the duty of the diner to get in and out, lickety-split?