We ate at a restaurant so terrible tonight that what started out as irritating, and developed into exasperating, finally turned into hysterical. We ate there on the recommendation of someone. We walked in, and picked a table. We sat down. We waited. And waited. And waited. We didn't see a single server, other than a busy bartender. We waited a little longer. Finally, I went up to the bar and asked for some menus.
We got them and studied the options. In fairness, the menu was extensive and reasonably priced. We made our choices and finally the busy bartender took our order. He walked away, leaving me holding the menus out to him. Finally, I got up and took them back to the bar.
We waited for water that didn't come. So we asked for it.
Just then, a small band began playing music. It was decent music . . . but WAY TOO LOUD. WAYYYYY. Such that I couldn't hear anything my kids and hubby were saying to me at the table. That is too loud.
We ordered. We tried to ignore the loud music.
The first dish came. It had NO presentation and actually looked awful. (Cottage pie . . . their house "specialty".)
The other three dishes came out one by one over a period of ten minutes. By the time the last one came, mine was cold.
Nicole's cream of potato soup was almost too spicy for her to eat. (When is cream of potato soup SPICY!?!) My dish was unbelievably boring. They forgot the bread that goes with the soup and when we asked for it, we were told they would TRY and find a piece somewhere . . .
Strike 7, 8 and 9.
They never came back and refilled our water glasses so that we were completely out for the last half of the meal.
When we asked if they could ask the band to turn it down a notch, we were told that no, that just wasn't possible.
They didn't bring the bill to us. We had to ask for it. (I was all for walking out and not paying, but ethical husband couldn't do it.)
At strike 4, we were annoyed. By strike 8, we were appalled. By strike 10, we were laughing and counting strikes.
We could have gotten so upset we ruined the meal. We could have been in rotten moods and not enjoyed each other's company. Instead we laughed, walked out and made jokes about it all the way home. Full of good food? Nope. Full of love? You bet.