Brutal Service

It looks like the heat may have finally broken here in Montreal. Glancing out my office window I can see the rain coming down, though I’m sure it’ll stop far too soon. Like much of Ontario, we’ve been getting punished by a combination of heat and humidity that makes me eager to get to the air-conditioned confines of m office each day. Wow. Al motivated to come to work? At least you can all take comfort in the fact that it’s for self-serving reasons, right? No need to repent yet. Judgement Day is not at hand.

It was a pretty quiet weekend on the home front. Plans fell through on Friday and Saturday, leaving me to watch episodes of Buffy the Vampire Slayer in the (dis)comfort of my hot and humid apartment. I miss that show. Sure, it was campy at times, but I think it had the right mix of camp, witty dialogue and decent acting. But enough about Buffy. Let’s move on with the weekend, shall we?

I got a call around noon from Phil. He was planning on coming to Montreal for the afternoon to meet up with Sara and her friends for brunch at a well-hidden Mexican place on St-Laurent called Sala Rosa or something like that. I never would have found the place if I didn’t have the address. I think it’s part of some sort of Spanish community center or something since I saw a “members only” section off to one side as I came in the door.

The place reminded me of something out of the movie, Desperado. Small, round tables, ceiling fans and a room décor that screams Mexico. I’ll give it points for atmosphere, but penalize them for terrible service. It didn’t take me long to pick out Phil and company. I was actually a bit surprised that there were so many people around since, when he mentioned it on the phone, he said that he was meeting up with Sara and her girlfriend. Next thing you know I’m at a table full of lesbians. And not the “butch” lesbians in the plaid shirts, either. These are all very attractive women!

Since I was there late (gee, big surprise!), the others had just started eating. The waitress sees me, notices that I’m a new arrival and offers to bring me a menu. I accept the offer and wait. And wait. And wait… The woman never came back!!! It’s not like it was too busy or anything, but regardless, the next time she came back was when it was time to start clearing the table. I’m not a particularly confrontational person, but I was a wee bit agitated by this. So I pull her aside as the others are paying the bill and remind her that I would have been a paying customer had she bothered to come back. Her reaction was something I wouldn’t have expected.

First she apologizes, but I can see it wasn’t really genuine. Then she says to me, “Well next time, you should be more aggressive.” Excuse me?!?! I’m the customer. She’s the waitress. She should be taking care of the customers. That’s what they pay her for. That’s (allegedly) how she earns her tips. Needless to say, I wasn’t impressed. I honestly don’t think I’ll be going back there anytime soon. I’m generous with my tips (some would say I’m too generous) and I can’t see any reason to show that establishment any love. Good thing I was in pleasant company!

Anyway, the rest of the day was unremarkable. We went back to Sara’s condo for a while, then I ended up back at my apartment, ready for a fun-filled round of laundry. Til next time…