It’s been five straight days of cloud cover. Five days of that washed-out gray light that makes everything — and everyone — look tired. So when I woke up today and saw blue sky and bright sun pouring through the windows like a long-lost friend, I figured people would be flocking to patios and parks. I didn’t expect to have to fight for daylight inside a restaurant. Yet here I am, seated at a window table with a friend in a place that brags about its “natural light,” and patio by the water, watching the staff rush to close the blinds like vampires on the run from a crucifix.
Why? Because “management prefers them closed.” Let’s be clear: management isn’t even here. But their shadowy legacy lives on, apparently in the form of blackout blinds on the parking lot side that must remain pulled down no matter what the weather — or the mood — outside. Ours is open, but from the outside, as people drive by, this place looks closed.
It’s not just this place. Restaurants everywhere — nice ones, chain ones, trendy ones — seem to be in a race to see who can create the most dimly lit cave without accidentally turning the place into a haunted house. Even at lunch. Even with massive windows that cost a fortune to install. Sunshine? Natural light? Apparently, it clashes with the “ambience.” Restaurant lighting is almost always set to “mood” — as if every meal is a Tinder date or a marriage proposal. You need a flashlight just to read the menu, and forget taking a decent photo of your food unless your phone has NASA-grade camera tech. But here’s the thing: Many don’t want candlelight vibes with their lunch. They don’t care about looking ten years younger in flattering light if it means they’re squinting to see what they are eating. And when we’ve had a week of gloom and rain, it’s okay to let the sun do its thing for a few days. Sunlight puts us in a better mood; it’s been proven.
They say it’s for “ambience.” Fine. But what about actual ambience? You know, the kind where people are happy and energized because they’re not sitting in a film noir at noon? What about the mental health benefits of sunlight — something folks around here are craving like oxygen after days of drizzle? Instead, restaurants chase that elusive aesthetic: soft lighting, shadows, “warm glow” bulbs that make everything feel like 8 p.m. no matter what time it is. And it’s not just aesthetic. Some say it hides imperfections — worn floors, chipped plates, tired decor. Others claim it makes people linger longer, spend more, and feel better about themselves.
But there’s a time and place for dim lighting. A sunny Monday in May after a week of downpour isn’t it. Here’s an idea: Let your customers decide if they want sunshine or shade. Ask us. If I want the blind open, let it stay open. If the next table prefers the blinds down, cool — let them eat in peace under the glow of whatever moody bulb you’ve strung from the ceiling. But stop assuming that a dark room equals a great experience. Sometimes, we want lots of natural light, a good cup of coffee, and to read the menu without holding it at a 45-degree angle under the table lamp.
I get it. Not every restaurant can cater to every preference. But when the clouds finally part and the sun comes out to make us all feel better, happier, and more energetic, let it come in and wash over us. After five days of gray, we didn’t come here for the vibe; we came here for the view.
johnberkovich.com 