I know that I shouldn't get emotional about a restaurant closing, but today I
feel really sad and a little hurt. A place where we've been going for
breakfast, almost every morning for the last 16 years shuttered its doors for
good.
Early this morning, we went and the staff was pulling equipment out
of the building and putting it on a truck. I feel like I was lied to.
The
manager could have come to us yesterday & said “don’t tell anyone, but we’re
closing.” That would have been simple and we wouldn't have said
anything.
But instead, he was promoting a new addition to the menu, a
menu that he’ll never implement, that will come out on Wednesday.
I have
to admit that it will affect Hubby much more than me. I leave for work while he
sits there for another hour talking to friends. He’s heartbroken; was in
tears this morning. He was wondering where all his friends will end up going.
He’d like to join them.
I know. Times change and life will go on. We’ll
find a new place. But for now, we’re sad.
Monday, September 15, 2014
Monday, September 1, 2014
Lunch
Hubby and I went out for lunch.
Nice restaurant: Nantucket Grill. A little pricey for small
portions, but the food is good and going there meant I’d finally get a piece of
cake that I should have received two weeks ago for my birthday. I was really
looking forward to the meal.
It was lunch, so we didn't have a great deal of time for our outing, but this being a fine dining establishment, we were prepared
for a bit of a wait.
And wait we did! We were shown to a table; given menus; (a double
sided card that was much smaller than the night menu). And the waiter left for
us to select our choices.
We decided on soup appetizer; I wanted to eat light to save
room for dessert, so I picked a salad and Hubby picked a fried entree.
And we waited. I drank my Diet Coke.
And we waited. I suggested that we leave for another
restaurant. Hubby said he was willing, but I was holding out for cake. I
suggested we give the waiter another couple of minutes.
And we waited some more. I drained my glass dry.
We waited so long we no longer had time for the appetizer.
We had to stop the waiter, Patrick, after he made the third
pass by our table and beg him to take our order. He apologized by saying “I’m
sorry; I forgot about you.”
That wasn't what I wanted to hear; nice to know that I’m so forgettable.
But I tried to be restrained since there was the ever hoped for cake at the end
of this meal.
Let me insert that this restaurant wasn't busy. In the
section where we were seated, there was a couple about fifteen feet from us
that was also waiting patiently for their food, but they had placed their
order. There were 3 tables near the back
of the restaurant that were getting attention. (They had a different waiter.)
When I went to wash my hands, I passed one more table that had six people at it
being served by the bartender. To my count, the entire restaurant had six
tables occupied with a total of about 20 customers. Not busy!
But with this volume of customers, our waiter forgot to take
our order!
Food arrived surprising fast considering the wait up to that
point. I had a lovely cold salad that was mainly romaine stems. There was
supposed to be grilled chicken which I found small quantities of buried in the
stems. My bowl of stems was $15 or so, but I was trying to eat light anyway. Hubby’s
portion of shrimp looked good.
I looked around the table asking, “Where’s the
bread? There’s always a basket of bread here.”
“The waiter must have forgotten it,” came the reply. I
looked around for the waiter; nowhere in sight.
He didn't come back to the table until after
the meal asking “you didn't want dessert did you?”
“Yes, I was thinking about the peanut butter chocolate cake.
Is that good?”
“I've never had it, but we sell a lot.”
I was expecting him to say it was god’s gift to the world
but that’s not what Patrick said. Now in my humble opinion, there shouldn't be
a single item on a menu that the wait staff hasn't had at least of bite of. The
only excuse is possibly some sort of food allergy, but in that case, I don’t
think they should work in that restaurant.
“Then that’s what I’d like. Peanut butter chocolate cake”
Hubby asked, “We never got our bread. Did you stop serving
it?”
“We only serve bread with the pasta. It’s very good.”
“We know. We've always had it in the past.”
Five minutes or so, I got my slice of carrot cake. “Excuse
me. Is that carrot cake? I ordered peanut butter chocolate.”
“I’m sorry. I thought you ordered carrot.”
“No.”
Another five minutes and my correct order arrived. It was
good, but not worth the ordeal to that point.
The check arrived: $7.95. Before I could say it was
incorrect, the waiter was gone. Hubby suggested that maybe due to the wait,
incorrect order and generally poor service, they had comped the meal. But I
reminded him that we hadn't complained to anyone about the poor service,
incorrect order or anything else.
He looked at the check and said, “I’d pay it & leave.
This was a miserable experience.”
I told him I couldn't in good conscience do that. I
continued to look for the waiter.
I didn't see the waiter, but did see who I
thought might be the manager. I flagged him down. I was waving my hand like a
child needing to catch the teacher’s eye to beg to go to the restroom. He
almost walked by me when I yelled, “Sir!”
“I’m sorry. I didn't see you.”
Damn! What a day for those invisibility pills to start
working!
I explained that my check was wrong. There should have been
2 meals, drinks and a dessert on there: about $40. He thanked me for being
honest and proceeded to adjust the bill.
Hubby suggested a 10% tip, but I left 20%.
But I vented my frustrations here.
Thank you for reading.
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