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| - My friend Jocelyn asked me pick a restaurant to have her birthday dinner. That's my primary function as a friend, I'm very good at this. Instincts told me to not plan this party, so picking the venue was all the responsibility that I've adopted to take on, I also offered to make the reservations. Two tables, 10 per table. First note of Brassaii, poor telephone manners.
I showed up on Saturday evening, walking down the dark alleyway to the entrance which reminded me of a Russian Mafia gentleman club. I came through the doors and saw Jocelyn and few of her friends in what appeared to be some sort of confusion. Turns out that somebody brought their own cake but was unaware of the per slice charge restaurants had on cakes. I was surprised at this unnecessary confusion, so decided to pay no attention to it. If you bring food from outside, then there's a fee, just like if you bring your own wine you're expected to pay corkage.
I checked my jacket with whom I thought was the Maitre'D, but really just turned out to be the coat check girl. She was unable to take my bowler hat because there was inadequate space for my headdress. It was completely stupid so I had to give my hat to someone with a purse .
The restaurant, like other restaurants on King built their décor around the industrial ambiance of the business which preceded the present gentrification era. I took a risk by picking this place knowing that after 10 Brassaii turned into a nightclub. I was shown to my table, I was among the first to arrive.
The bar was illuminated by neon lights which eliminated any feel of opulence, it was dimly lit throughout, so the mold & cob webs on the brick walls was barely noticeable. Our waiter seemed to be a friendly man in his early 30's, but wasn't very helpful when I ordered the Tempranillo, we had to find it on the menu together, and when I say 'we' I mean 'I'. I asked that the wine be ordered but put on hold until more people showed up. Guests began arriving one-by-one until my table was filled...and then it stopped. The second table was empty and it remained empty for 10 minutes, 15 minutes, 20, 30...
The Maitre'D became anxious and started threatening us that the table be given to other if no one showed up in the next five minutes. I had to reassure everyone that we indeed had a reservation, and that's what reservations are for...to reserve things. But I was getting anxious and very annoyed. Tardiness in restaurants is very poor etiquette; this is delaying everyone who decided to come on time. After 40 minutes I just said screw it and called for my wine, which actually took another 15 minutes.
It was my first time trying tempranillo, it was disgusting!
After a full hour, the remaining guests finally showed up. But what's most egregious of all was that they offered little to almost no apology. "Oh sorry we're late..something something happened and therefore...the end"
Are you having a piss? One HOUR late, and they didn't give two shit.
We began ordering, I got the salad, it came before everyone appetizers which was awkward. There was a seafood platter, some steak. The food was mediocre at best, served on ceramic plates probably purchased at Benix.
Twenty minutes into dinner I noticed the latecomers were becoming strangely impatient (irony) about something. It seems that the service staff have been ignoring them, and only refilling their waters, which I secretly found to be hilarious. Our waiter got into an argument with one of the guests, and supposedly she complained about waiting for service, then the waiter quipped he was waiting for their arrival for much longer, something I would have said! Oh, the poor attitude, but I couldn't get mad! That comment really pissed them off, and so they selfishly called for the manager without thinking twice about the uncomfortable situation they would render everyone else to, including the birthday girl!
Let's just say these fellows aren't what you call 'great debaters', and soon found themselves in an argument with the manager. This dinner turned into an embarrassing scene, which finally ended up as latecomers VS. restaurant staff, and some guy who claimed to be the owner. I remained completely nonchalant and watched this chaos unfold on the dining floor. I would have enjoyed it if only my wine were better tasting.
So, after another twenty minutes of fighting they decided they were just going to up and LEAVE! Complete disregard on how it would affect the rest of the "party". Naturally our table was forced to quickly finish our food and leave with them. I never chugged wine so fast in my life. DID I MENTION I DIDN'T LIKE THE WINE?!
The evening was a horrible display of atrocious etiquette, and poor decisions. Everyone was angry with the restaurant except for me. I was angry at the latecomer who initiated, escalated, and poorly managed a situation which f**ked everyone else's evening.
Pedestrian upbringing.
ONE HOUR LATE
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