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.”
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.