| rev:text
| - This happened a while back (though I wrote the review immediately afterward), maybe this fellow has received counselling or found the lord, but as of October of '08, he had some serious issues, please read on:
After a very pleasant evening enjoying draft Belgian-style microbrews and a friend's birthday party at the bier markt, I decided it was time to call it a night and cash out my tab at about 12:30 AM. Full disclosure is necessary: I had consumed 7 beers and dinner in the course of 4 1/2 hours, but as they we're about 10 oz glasses of one of their less-alcoholic selections, and I am a 200+ lbs man, I was not, at any point in the evening, drunk. I've gone back through the whole series of events, which I am attempting to relate as objectively as is possible, and all I can honestly find myself to be guilty of was one poorly-considered wisecrack, for which I immediately and repeatedly apologized.
Anyway, I waited at the far end of the bar for one of the bartenders to get to me, and I waited a while, which did not seem unusual, as it was a busy Saturday night. After a fair amount of waiting, I leant in against the edge of the end of the bar, apparently upsetting a tray of about 10 napkin-wrapped silverware packets that I hadn't seen resting there. The bartender who was nearest began to pick it up, and I said to him, "Sorry about that. I guess if you guys had gotten to me about 10 minutes earlier, that never would have happened," using, I thought, an obviously joking tone. I'll admit, it was probably not a particularly funny joke to a bartender under the circumstances, though it was not at all confrontational in tone (and also a true statement), but his response: "Why don't you go f*** yourself?" seemed more than unnecessarily extreme...
"What?!" was all I could manage in my shock as a response, to which he replied, "You won't get any more beers here." As I had previously stated, I was by no means intoxicated (in fact I am typing this first draft immediately afterward), but was being made to feel I was some kind of abusive drunk. After collecting myself somewhat, I said, "I don't want any more beer, I'm just trying to cash out my tab." To which this gentleman glowered at me and replied, "Well, you're going to be waiting a while," and walked over to one of the female bartenders, saying something I couldn't hear. I can only assume he was telling her not to wait on me. When I did get the attention of one of the other female bartenders (who had been providing fine service throughout the night), I asked for my check and asked what exactly was the problem of the other bartender, doing so purposefully well within his earshot. This was when he reiterated his earlier obscene suggestion as to where I could go and what I could do, and actually volunteered that he was one of the owners of the bar!
I was completely baffled at this point, how can this man expect to run his business in this fashion? At this point, I just wanted to get out of the place with my credit card and some shred of dignity (there were a number of folks that I'd just met at the party watching this whole exchange), so when the helpful bartender cashed out the tab and handed me the folder just as the abusive "owner" was again passing by, I took the opportunity to reiterate to him that I had upset the tray of silverware completely by accident and that I didn't think that his treatment of me as a customer was at all appropriate. His response to this statement (and I still have trouble believing this part, though I was standing there) was to slap the folder containing my check, credit card and receipt, then in my hand, upward into the air, scattering the contents onto the bar floor, and storm off like a three-year-old.
After I had located my card, receipt and folder on the floor, and asked for a new pen as I was unable to find the original, I paid my check, confirmed with the helpful female bartender that this man was indeed a co-owner of the bar (she was predictably disinterested in becoming involved in what it was becoming increasingly clear was probably a regular tantrum of her employer), and assured her that her tip was not reflective of his abuse. In fact, the two stars that the wait staff managed to salvage in this review, in spite of their owner picking a fight with this baffled patron, should speak highly of the level of service here.
Again, all I can find that I was guilty of was a bad joke, and at several points I gave this man the opportunity to apologize for his abusive language and behavior, at each opportunity he sought only to escalate the confrontation. In retrospect, I can only imagine that he really was trying to get me to take a swing at him, which, if you knew me, is beyond laughable.
Despite the fine selection of beer, impeccable service from everyone other than the ownership, and seemingly pleasant atmosphere, I have not and will never return to this bar, on the chance that I will be subjected to such abuse again.
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