Revenge is a dish...

“After a good dinner one can forgive anybody, even one's own relations.” 
- Oscar Wilde, A Woman of No Importance

 While I am fond, and inclined to agree with a number of Mr. Wilde's quotes, I would hazard an addendum to the above: "unless one is confronted with a disagreeable countenance in the form of a dreadful service staff."

Last week I was out with a group of friends, at a dinner which had been organised for a few months. This restaurant happened to be of a newish nature, located on the top floor of the city's tallest building, although at 37 floors, the aspirations in its name alluding to its lofty position, Clouds, was somewhat laughable, and ironically Napoleonic as the views stared out towards the looming Alps. However, I may be somewhat unkind given that evening, everything was swathed in fog, essentially living up to its moniker.

I digress. 

Perhaps it was because I was jetlagged, having just stepped off a 12 hour flight, but the first irritation started when I ordered a Gin Martini, and was rebuked by the waiter. I recall his exact words to be, "Well, a martini is always gin, unless you order a vodkatini which would be vodka." The unceremonious laying down of the plates for each course also irritated me. However the crowning moment was when the coat check girl told me to Fuck Off because I'd asked her more than twice for my umbrella, which she clearly couldn't be bothered to look for. Her colleague, embarrassed for her, managed to find the offensive item and blushed as she thrust it at me. If looks could kill, I would be in prison now. 

In this building also sits a bar, The Rivington Hotel Bar, which a year ago OH and I were unceremoniously asked to leave by the, frankly, useless, barman. There is a story this which involves Old Fashioneds, and the surprise element of being served 3 totally different drinks of the same name in succession by the same barman. As the last order was slammed down in front of me, with a high soda water to bourbon ratio, and what looked like a wedge of lemon squeezed into the highball, I rolled my eyes. OH saw my reaction and burst out laughing, and shortly the barman told us to leave if we didn't like it there. I was totally gobsmacked and rendered speechless at the audacity of the barman. Moreover, being berated due to the inability of his bartending skills and the massive chip on his shoulder, left the aftertaste of bile bitters and OH and I have since not returned. 

Other notable dining outings include the meal at Scotts in London when it was newly opened, and we were rushed through our meal to make way for an additional sitting, and the dim sum waitress who practically threw our change at us.

I'm sure there will be other memorable dining events, but instead of suffering in silence, English style, I now plan to name and shame each establishment. If you dish it out, you should expect a serving in return.