Lovers love, but all love comes to an end. Criers cry, but the tears eventually dry up (or they die of acute dehydration). Huggers hug, but there will always come a time in their hugs when they may have to take care of important business, such as the business of using the bathroom, requiring the diversion of their hugging arms to said um…business.
but haters keep on hating no matter what.
Everyone has a little hater in them, from something small like pet peeves to larger problems such as plotting murders. You have a little hater in you…as do I. I know, you probably figured that out a while ago.
Tonight I had a bad experience at a local restaurant. It wasn’t terrible, just a little misunderstanding. A misunderstanding as to whether or not I wanted to get served. I was pretty sure I wanted a margarita, as was my dining partner. The bartender, on the other hand, was absolutely positive that we were happy with the waters in front of us and went about serving the more non-homeless looking people sitting around the bar while simultaneously ignoring us. We sat there for about 20 minutes, five or so of it was spent trying to choose an appropriate drink to accompany our appetizers we were planning on ordering as our dinner. A nice margarita/small plate dinner seemed like a good end to a stressful week. Not according to our bartender. I mentioned my predicament on Twitter, tagging in the restaurant on my twheat, with no response from the restaurant (which is okay, I know the kick ass woman who does their social media, and wouldn’t fault her for not responding to a grumpy man, whom she knows to be grumpy at 5 pm on a Friday). I decided it was time to pull the plug on the waiting game, and upon getting up from the bar top and making leaving movements the bartender gave us a sincere-ish smile and thanked us warmly. For what? I said “thank you for not serving us” and walked toward the door. My dining partner said the bartender claimed they thought we were still looking at the menu. I sincerely doubt her claim. We looked like a well dressed homeless couple, or a shabbily dressed homed couple. Evidently our money was not needed by the restaurant or the bartender. (The spot we did end up at was more than happy to see us and had been following my twitter gripes. Love those persons at the High Life) Cool. I will not be going back to this restaurant again. Until the patio opens back up and mojito mondays in the sun are in season. So, shitty service restaurant, I guess we will meet again in April. I can’t wait. Meh. Thanks, Dos Rios.
Tens, what went wrong here?
1. I felt judged by the service staff.
2. I did not get served. Well, we did get waters.
3. There was a second bartender whom also ignored us. Completely
4. There was, and still has been, no attempt at righting the sitch.
Am I a hater? Almost always. I am always overly critical, but generally keep it to myself if possible. Was I wrong to broadcast my problem immediately to twitter? No. That is what it is there for? Will I be going back? Absofuckinglutely not. Will they miss me? They didn’t even know I was there. So…no. Will I go online and leave an annonymous shity review on some stupid restaurant review site? No, I like to own my words and I see anonymous shit talkers as cowards who should keep it to themselves. Wait. I actually did write a bad review, but it is just here and I am sure that no person would ever check my opinion before going to the offending restaurant.
Anonymous internet shit talkers are cowards.
But then again, Haters gotsta hate. Have a great weekend.
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