THE SEARCH FOR MR. ADEQUATE
11/3/06

By Susan Silver

Fast Food

I’ve had my fast food moments, in a rush, grab a McDonalds, but too, every once and a blue moon I like to dine ‘graciously,’ as my Mother used to say.

Last week I had a dinner date with one of my new darling younger women friends. We hadn’t seen each other in a while as she is busy PR person and hasn’t much time, so finally she got a night off from the Hubby and we were going to meet and have a nice night out, to chat and catch up. Dum de dum dum … or so we thought.

We both live on the Upper East Side so I told her to pick a place she liked which was in between our addresses. She chose a place on Lex in the seventies and since I’d known people to have eaten there and liked it, I agreed.

I got there at 6:55 for our 7 o’clock reservation and was told that our reservation was 7:30 which kind of bummed me out. Just as I was calling her, she walked in and no … it was for 7. They were pretty busy and tried to push us into a tiny two crammed in between other tiny twos in the front.

We asked for something with a tad more room towards the back and they seated us in the aisle right in front of the pizza oven. Not only was it warm, but the waiters were sitting on our laps waiting to pick up. I’m not complaining, but for eating purposes … perhaps another table.

Next table, not much better, but it was the only choice it seemed, though there were several tables for four nearby. But since I’d never been there I figured it wasn’t going to help to ask for one of those.

Several ‘proper’ couples, as in a man and a woman, (as in Noah) came in and each twosome was seated at a four place table. Hmmm. I mentioned to my friend, do you think it’s because we’re two girls … ok ok, women? She said maybe. Two other couples of women came in and got the two tiny tables we’d rejected. Hmmm again.

The wine list was thrust at us and the thruster/waiter stood there before we had even settled into the chairs and she had taken off her coat. Since I don’t drink it and she wanted ice coffee and I wanted a tonic we said, no thanks. Somehow that triggered the Adventures of Lucy and Ethel in a conveyor belt of dining.

No treat tonight kiddies, only tricks.

The Waiter then came back in 30 seconds and asked if we were ready to order. Since we had not looked at menus, we ordered our drinks. He was not pleased. He brought them before we had unwrapped the napkins. He stood there. We finally looked at each other and looked at the menu … just to get it over with.

We ordered and I swear … I am not exaggerating … in less than two minutes, her pasta arrived! She had not put the milk into her ice coffee! I said jokingly, “Has someone sent back the order and you wanted to serve it to her?” No response. Then my pizza came within three minutes. I had not taken a sip of my drink yet.

Now sometimes I need a reality check. You know I am super sensitive to things like noise, smoke and assholes. Oh excuse me, rudeness. So I asked her, “Are they rushing us?” She said yes.

So as we tried to slow things down a tad and drink, talk and eat, they

kept bumping into the chairs as they passed to pick up things from the oven and the place started filling up. And the noise was increasing.   

I felt like I was eating to a metronome or that music in silent movies where things are speeded up. They whisked away our plates just as her fork was put down for the last bite. Now I was really getting pissed off.

A second waiter appeared and asked if we wanted dessert. I said no. She said she’d look at the menu. He stood there. Now I’m getting more pissed. I look at him, he looks at me. I say, “Could we please have a minute?” He leaves.

We attempt to have our conversation when the first waiter appears and asks her what she wants for dessert. She says she’s not sure. I ask to see the Manager. Now it’s time for the wicket witch on her broom, baby.

He goes to the Manager, a really slick looking dude with shifty eyes who looks over and then looks away. He is not going to come over.

But he doesn’t know who he is dealing with. I keep waving my arm to him and gesturing and finally he comes over, arms folded. And if you know body

language, well let’s say … he didn’t really care.

I said we felt really rushed and that the food had come before we had even been there five minutes, and now we’d been there less than one hour and had wanted to be able to enjoy the dinner. He just looked at me. I looked at him.

My friend looked at me. I looked at her. We looked at him. He then said, “So you feel you are being rushed? “Duh was the answer but I said tightly. “No we don’t feel we are, we are being rushed.” Actually my friend and I said it at the same time.

He looked at us. We looked at him. He sort of muttered something that sounded like “sorry” but really was more like “I don’t give a f—k.”

And then he left. Now, a smart man might have sent over a drink, or dessert or done anything as a gesture. This guy … immediately sent us the check which was immediately (did I say that already?) and unceremoniously slapped on the table. Immediately!!

We both were in shock. And we said to the waiter, “You have got to be kidding!”

He said he’s only doing what “he was told.” Feeling sorry for him, we said “we understand.” Perhaps we both lied. Perhaps.

Now we had to decide do you give a penny tip in protest or a huge one to make them realize they were wrong and we are lovely, worthwhile, possibly good customers who might come back. Heck, even make them feel guilty.

Yeah, sure. That’ll happen, (she said sarcastically. In case you can’t tell how pissed off I really was. Did I say I was pissed off?)

We gave a 20% tip and stalked out. Well I stalked out. My poor friend, who had recommended the place was feeling terrible and kept saying “I thought we’d have a nice leisurely dinner. What happened? I never had that happen. I didn’t know.”

I glared at the jerk manager who looked blankly at me as though he’d never seen me before and we left into the cold cruel rain.

You’ll be blue

DO NOT EVER GO TO BELLA BLU if you are a single woman and want a leisurely evening with a friend, Dear Readers. Trust me on this. Have I ever let you down?

On the Adequacy Scale: Food more than adequate, ambience less than adequate, noise factor predominating and attitude ZERO!!

Why, I am so pissed I might even repeatedly call the place and ask if they have Prince Albert in a can … remember, that one? Well, hell, it is Halloween.

Next week lots of fun things coming up.

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