I should've known better when I entered Athena and it was hotter inside than outside. Yet I was craving some gyros and hummus and had heard good things about this place. I should've walked out when the host grabbed the last few crayons from the bowl for my son and the bowl was lovingly garnished with dead fly bodies. Man I'm an idiot.
I should've gotten up from the table when after five minutes we were completely ignored by several servers waiting for a glass of water, but I thoroughly enjoyed not only the company that I was with, but also the dozen or so extra diners that joined us by landing on our napkins, forks and faces.
I should've sent back the dip platter that was finally delivered thirty minutes after ordering. Especially because I find warm tsatsiki gross, hummus that separated into an unrecognizable film probably sometime the day before and the feta dip thoughtfully studded with wilted olives. But I digress, at least my son's fries were accompanied by ketchup so wonderful and distinct it had broken into a clear layer of oil and another layer of powdery grit, but that's probably just because it sits out in the kitchen for several hours to fully mature.
I should've asked for the manager and demanded my check to be waived, but I didn't, I just didn't.
I should've gone to Arby's.