Title: If it's not in the shape of a wedge, it's not a wedge salad. WTF.
Charlotte airport. Middle of the day. The restaurant is less than half full--four-tops and booths sitting empty as far as the eye can see. Meanwhile, every single traveler is wedged (ironically) into these tiny little two-tops that are about one-third shorter than a normal table. The very people most likely to need space are the ones being denied it.
That's the whole reason solo travelers walk into places like this: space, a real table, somewhere to eat and knock out a little work between flights.
So I ask politely if I could have a larger table. I'm told they're "for larger parties." I ask if I could sit in a booth. Same answer, delivered in that polite-but-pointed, bless-your-heart Southern tone. Darl'n.
It gets better.
The other half of the restaurant is even emptier. I ask again. Same answer. Different server. Same script. A small parade of hospitality lemmings.
On my way out, the hostess suddenly notices the obvious: empty tables everywhere. She "finds" me a four-top. Moments later, she does the same for another single diner. Then another. Apparently the rules loosen once customers start walking.
So: lousy hospitality, a faint mist of condescension, a smashed "wedge" salad that had clearly never met a wedge, and a $22 "therapeutic" cocktail to dull the experience.
Airports are stressful enough. The least a half-empty restaurant can do is let people sit at an empty table. read more