From the very instant we crossed the threshold of this establishment, it became woefully apparent…read morethat hospitality had taken its leave and courtesy had been banished to some distant and undiscovered land.
Our waiter received us not with the civility one might reasonably expect when entering a restaurant, but with an air of such profound displeasure that one might have believed our mere arrival had constituted a personal affront. His manner was dismissive, inflexible, and consistently unpleasant, setting the tone for what would become an unnecessarily arduous meal.
When we attempted to make a modest adjustment to our order, our request was met with remarkable rigidity. One might have accepted such inflexibility as the immutable law of the kitchen--had the very dish subsequently delivered to our table not been incorrect. Thus, flexibility was apparently impossible when requested by the guest, yet error remained entirely achievable by the establishment.
And then came the waiting.
The restaurant was by no means bustling with patrons. No great multitude filled the tables; no banquet of royal proportions appeared to be underway. Yet our food journeyed from kitchen to table with all the urgency of a medieval pilgrimage. Minutes stretched into what felt like seasons. Empires might have risen and fallen in the interval.
But the crowning absurdity of the evening concerned a humble bottle of water.
We ordered another water. It never arrived.
Having already endured the considerable passage of time required for our meal, we eventually asked that the missing water simply be removed from the bill. We no longer wanted it. This, however, appeared to present an insurmountable philosophical dilemma. Our waiter insisted upon bringing it nonetheless.
We paid.
And only then--after the bill had been settled, the meal concluded, and any conceivable need for the water had evaporated--did the long-awaited vessel finally make its triumphant appearance.
Behold: the water had come.
Alas, it had arrived not merely late, but in another age entirely.
Mistakes happen. Food can take longer than expected. An order can be misunderstood. None of these things alone would compel me to leave such a review. What made this experience so unpleasant was the attitude accompanying every interaction. A restaurant need not be perfect, but courtesy should not be considered an optional accompaniment.
We entered seeking dinner. We departed having endured a minor Shakespearean tragedy--complete with conflict, suspense, errors, interminable waiting, and, in the final act, the dramatic arrival of a bottle of water no one wanted anymore.
Would I return?
Nay.
