For Nancy

My friend Nancy (you know, the Dear Nancy...please start blogging Nancy?) has recently started reading my blog and tonight I was led to my April 2006 archives were I wrote about a meal we shared with some friends. I thought that maybe she would like to relive the memory of that disaster:


Once a month, 4 of my girlfriends and I go out for lunch. It was supposed to be to Julio's Barrio, but Candy, Fiona and I went there a couple of weeks ago and our 3 meals plus one child's meal came to almost $70. So we decided to be cheap and vetoed Julio's in favour of my choice, the recently rebuilt Cheesecake Cafe.

This may have been a mistake. We arrived just before noon and Bev and Nancy were already there. First sign of impending disaster: the terrible makeup job on our waitress. Sorry, are they only called 'servers' these days? I am terrible for keeping up with current lingo. Anyway, the makeup was really bad; tons of foundation that ended just before the jaw line without being properly blended. And cat eye eyeliner, I don't care if it's the style, it looks horrid. Unless you're, you know, a cat. For someone who does not wear makeup I am very judgemental about it.

Plus she was a bit of a bitch.

We ordered drinks and our meals. Fiona was the first in the bad books of our waitress for asking for 3 slices of lemon with her diet pepsi. Then Nancy said there's something in my drink. I said it must just be a piece of her lime. But then I made the mistake of looking at my drink only to see 3 little somethings floating in it. I fished them out with my straw and am still not sure what they were. She brought Nancy and I new drinks (probably with a wee bit of spit in them.) My friend Shelley joined us at about 12.40 and only 2 of us had our meals. Bev's soup had arrived, but she had to request a new tea biscuit as hers was rock hard. My meal was the last to arrive, due to the fact that they had to remake it before it even left the kitchen.

So while we are all eating, with the exception of Shelley who had only a drink, Nancy suddenly spits something out her mouth. It is a huge grip. Not a regular sized one, but the really big ones. (By grip I mean bobby pin for all you North Americans. You know, all 3 of you.) It was in her salad. I was dying laughing (but stayed totally dry for anyone who reads the other blog.) Needless to say, Nancy's meal was sent back. The manager came over and offered to buy her a piece of cheesecake. Shelley said "I should hope you are buying the entire meal." Which they did end up doing.

By the end of our meal, she wasn't even answering us when we said thank you anymore, but let's face it the thanks were few and far between. We had our cheesecake. I had turtle, it was delicious.

Our bill came to about $90. Now, I know Canadians have a shitty reputation for tipping. I personally don't know anyone who is a bad tipper, with the exception of my mother, but she's English so that really explains it all I think. The group I was with today, we are great tippers. But not for this one. I think there was a $5.00 bill left on the table at the end of it all. Which is sad, but she was a cow. And there was no service and isn't that what you tip for? Though normally I do tip whether it is good or bad service. But no longer.

At the very end of it all, Bev was talking to the manager who gave her $20 in gift certificates and said that that waitress has been an ongoing issue. So, um, fire her? It's not like the Chessecake has a union and she can grieve it until kingdom come. Honestly, if it weren't for those gift certificates we would never do lunch there again. Well, we won't, but we will do cheesecake.

Next month we are off to Dante's, where once upon a time a great big Jamaican man tried to pick me up, but I was very drunk and when I am very drunk I somehow pick up an Irish accent, so I told him I was off home to Belfast in the morning. However, we will be in the restaurant in the middle of the day, not the club in the middle of the night so I think I and any Jamaicans are safe from one another.

*I have just realized that as I was using a fake Irish accent, it is entirely possible that he was using a fake Jamaican accent. Damn. It was very good though, but then so is my fake Irish one, if I do say so myself.