Saturday, 24 January 2009
Dining Out
Do you know what irks me the most when I am out at any eatery? I don’t mind if the food sucks or if they overpriced the food like mad or even when the servers seem to have a long stick stuck up their asses (in fact, that’s why I pay the ludicrous amount of money.). However, I am extremely peeved when that stick elongates too far and actually skewers their brain. Yes, I hate having lousy service whenever I dine out. (Nothing much I can do about inside meals... Ops...)
Of course, this article was triggered by an incident that occurred tonight when my family went out for dinner. We had fusion western food at a little restaurant named ‘Family’ located approximately 5 minutes away from my house by car. As usual, I ordered their ‘Family Chicken Chop’. I guess everyone could tell by the name that that is their speciality. Here’s where the trouble started. The waiter seemed to have an extremely peculiar noise filtering built-in mechanism. Not only did he completely ignore my mum and me (until the third time, and even then someone else had to come and confirm the order again. [Take note : The order was confirmed correctly twice]), he was capable to chit chat nonsense with my father (My dad knows all the staff at this restaurant).
So off the orders went (twice) to the kitchen and we all waited for our food to arrive. Have one known my family well enough, the silence will not seem all that awkward. First to arrive was the pre-prepared Siamese laksa and the rest of the orders came with a little waiting, except my dads and mine. Here I was sitting there, staring blankly into the pitch black sky and occasionally glancing at the passing traffic, while twirling my cup of tea. I swear if the base of the cup was a drill, it would have hit the other side of the Earth’s circumference.
And the nerve of that idiot first waiter to come and tease my dad that his order would arrive last TWICE! The waiting continued as I slowly counted the number of tables that were still being served. (There were only three, mine inclusive and the other two definitely arrived way after us.) My aunt and her family, who lived around 30 minutes from our house, arrived and they placed their orders while my dads supposed last-to-come dish has reached our table as the twirling continued (You thought I was exaggerating, didn’t you?) .
Finally, the wait got to me. Passive aggression brewed rapidly inside me. My mood quickly turned foul and I was ready to spew excessive amount of toxic at the next person who dared tempt me to speak. When I am like this, my family has learnt to read my facial expression and know better than to talk to me. I must add here that I used to have a short temper, but I have grown extremely patient over the two years away from home. Also, I always direct my anger to a less active outlet. You would not see me act actively on my aggression impulses unless you deliberately prick my bulging nerve when I am pissed (with the exception of two other times in my whole life).
I continued my cup twirling (albeit more rapidly now) as I watched the waiter ignored my mothers calls and food getting sent to the other tables (and not just the pre-prepared food). My uncles order even came 5 minutes before mine (and that was after the other tables were half full with food). I count the waiter lucky that he did not utter a single word when handing me my much-belated dinner. And the dish was the most horrible rendition that I had tasted. Everything seemed to be below par. There was not enough sauce. The fries were undercooked. There were fewer vegetables. (I like the vegetables.) The chicken was thoroughly cooked, but the thicker layer of fat and skin present this time were glaring obvious and made the dish even less appealing.
After I was done with that meal, my dad went to pay for the food. Spotting some curry puffs, my aunt tried to call for a waiter to have some packed so she can eat them later. The other waiter came this time, and he seemed to have developed the ignorance and noise filtering system of the first one as the whole table had to call out for him a second time just to catch his attention as he has forgot about the curry puffs the second the order was placed.
Even as we were walking past the waiters on our way out, not a single word of apology I did hear. I know that my dish does not take that long to prepare. I know they knew that I knew that fact as I have had that exact dish there countless times before. I also know that there was no way that my order could have been lost or mixed up (unless they are really idiots. The place was not even packed.) after it had been confirmed twice. And I know that I would not be having that dish again if I were even so kind as to have a meal there again.
Finally, an article came out, even though the purpose of it was for me to blow off steam. Anyways, I hope that I would be able to update more frequently, probably after my interview (for some scholarship) on the 31st which have been driving me up the wall with its preparation and my constant blocks (and procrastination).
Until my next update,
Of course, this article was triggered by an incident that occurred tonight when my family went out for dinner. We had fusion western food at a little restaurant named ‘Family’ located approximately 5 minutes away from my house by car. As usual, I ordered their ‘Family Chicken Chop’. I guess everyone could tell by the name that that is their speciality. Here’s where the trouble started. The waiter seemed to have an extremely peculiar noise filtering built-in mechanism. Not only did he completely ignore my mum and me (until the third time, and even then someone else had to come and confirm the order again. [Take note : The order was confirmed correctly twice]), he was capable to chit chat nonsense with my father (My dad knows all the staff at this restaurant).
So off the orders went (twice) to the kitchen and we all waited for our food to arrive. Have one known my family well enough, the silence will not seem all that awkward. First to arrive was the pre-prepared Siamese laksa and the rest of the orders came with a little waiting, except my dads and mine. Here I was sitting there, staring blankly into the pitch black sky and occasionally glancing at the passing traffic, while twirling my cup of tea. I swear if the base of the cup was a drill, it would have hit the other side of the Earth’s circumference.
And the nerve of that idiot first waiter to come and tease my dad that his order would arrive last TWICE! The waiting continued as I slowly counted the number of tables that were still being served. (There were only three, mine inclusive and the other two definitely arrived way after us.) My aunt and her family, who lived around 30 minutes from our house, arrived and they placed their orders while my dads supposed last-to-come dish has reached our table as the twirling continued (You thought I was exaggerating, didn’t you?) .
Finally, the wait got to me. Passive aggression brewed rapidly inside me. My mood quickly turned foul and I was ready to spew excessive amount of toxic at the next person who dared tempt me to speak. When I am like this, my family has learnt to read my facial expression and know better than to talk to me. I must add here that I used to have a short temper, but I have grown extremely patient over the two years away from home. Also, I always direct my anger to a less active outlet. You would not see me act actively on my aggression impulses unless you deliberately prick my bulging nerve when I am pissed (with the exception of two other times in my whole life).
I continued my cup twirling (albeit more rapidly now) as I watched the waiter ignored my mothers calls and food getting sent to the other tables (and not just the pre-prepared food). My uncles order even came 5 minutes before mine (and that was after the other tables were half full with food). I count the waiter lucky that he did not utter a single word when handing me my much-belated dinner. And the dish was the most horrible rendition that I had tasted. Everything seemed to be below par. There was not enough sauce. The fries were undercooked. There were fewer vegetables. (I like the vegetables.) The chicken was thoroughly cooked, but the thicker layer of fat and skin present this time were glaring obvious and made the dish even less appealing.
After I was done with that meal, my dad went to pay for the food. Spotting some curry puffs, my aunt tried to call for a waiter to have some packed so she can eat them later. The other waiter came this time, and he seemed to have developed the ignorance and noise filtering system of the first one as the whole table had to call out for him a second time just to catch his attention as he has forgot about the curry puffs the second the order was placed.
Even as we were walking past the waiters on our way out, not a single word of apology I did hear. I know that my dish does not take that long to prepare. I know they knew that I knew that fact as I have had that exact dish there countless times before. I also know that there was no way that my order could have been lost or mixed up (unless they are really idiots. The place was not even packed.) after it had been confirmed twice. And I know that I would not be having that dish again if I were even so kind as to have a meal there again.
Finally, an article came out, even though the purpose of it was for me to blow off steam. Anyways, I hope that I would be able to update more frequently, probably after my interview (for some scholarship) on the 31st which have been driving me up the wall with its preparation and my constant blocks (and procrastination).
Until my next update,
Happy Chinese New Year!
Monkey J
23:08
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23:08
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