3 posts tagged “plan”
Blog Plan Paste
I had started a log, and written about How to get the most out of it, Objectives of Blogging and Plans for the future.
I have repeated it many times since, and it can also form the basis or background for all internet activity
I am pasting it below as well as create a file copy.
Some good Ideas today-
Software - Vista MSN $300 - Download
Free on Linux.
Paste of Blog Plan
| Leigh Butler ( @ 2008-08-18 09:51:00 |
| Current mood: | |
| Entry tags: | asshole customer service, dining out, new york, rants |
In which I DO mind the PQs
I'm amazed about this in retrospect, but nevertheless it is only now,
after almost a year living in New York, that I have finally had a
Terrible Waiter Experience in a restaurant.
So, Saturday SM and I had to go into the city for different reasons: I wanted to go pick up some library books that were on hold for me (new Temeraire book, YAY), and SM needed to go to the Apple store to buy a new AC cord for her laptop, as hers had died.
SM, however, loathes going to the Apple stores in Manhattan, because (a) they are all designed with translucent stairs and walls and floors, which is meant to be all funky and hip and shit, but also is kind of terrifying for the vertigo-prone, and (b) they are inevitably stuffed to the GILLS with people. Mostly tourists. Seriously, if you want to see a prime example of what I can only call a veritable orgy of consumerism, head on down to the Apple store on 5th and 59th. IF YOU DARE.
SM, let us say, is really, really not down with large crowds of people shoving her around inside, essentially, a giant glass box of crazy. Accordingly, she asked me to come with her as moral (and possibly bouncerial) support, and in return she would let me haul her to the two different library branches I needed to go to to pick up the books I had on hold (for reasons too boring to explain).
She also very wisely elected to go to the much less obnoxious Apple store in the Meatpacking District instead of the Giant Glass Box of Crazy on 5th. This was cool for me, in that I had sort of brushed by the Meatpacking District before but not really been in it, as such, before. At least I don't think I had. Anyway.
So, we went to the Apple store on 14th, which was still stupid crowded but not nearly as bad as the 5th Avenue store would have been, and got in and out with skin and psyches intact, and went across the street to have lunch at the Diner.
No, this is not where I had the bad waiter experience. Our waiter there was perfectly adequate, and the food was WAY better than adequate. I had this chicken burger with aioli and avocado and provolone that was KICKASS, y'all, and SM convinced the guys there to make her a chocolate and peanut butter milkshake even though it wasn't on the menu, and while that is definitely not my thing, SM was Pleased.
Afterwards we debated simply going back to Queens, but the weather that day was absolutely gorgeous, and it was a shame to just go home, you know? So we decided to walk down to the Hudson River Park only a few blocks away.
It was pretty darn lovely, I must say. There was some kind of festival/outdoor concert thingy going on on the big pier (Flogging Molly was one of the musical guests), but unfortunately the entrance fee proved to be a whopping 70 bucks, which, no. SM and I walked on, down to the next pier which had a playground surrounded by a promenade with benches where you could sit and enjoy the New Jersey skyline across the river. I was surprised to find that the New Jersey skyline? Not too shabby.
The cool breeze and the sunlight glinting off the water and the distant proud outline of the Statue of Liberty helped with that, of course.
SM showed me where, had they been there, the World Trade Center towers would have, well, towered on the jutting lower bit of the city behind us, outlining them with her fingers against empty sky.
We lingered for a bit, then just sort of wandered up and around a ways until we found ourselves back in the Village. Since we were in SM's friend's (whom we shall call Red Dutchess) neck of the woods, we called her up to see if she wanted to meet us for coffee. RD did indeed, and so we wound up at a place called Alexandra's on Hudson Street.
Well.
If you have been waiting for the length of this entry with bated breath for the Terrible Waiter Experience, look no further, for here it is.
We walked up just as the waiter, who for the duration shall be known as Pissy Queen, was walking out to swipe the silverware off the tables on the outdoor patio. SM was on the phone with RD, telling her where we were so she could meet us, so I smiled and said to Pissy Queen, "Is it okay if we sit outside?"
Now, there are two kinds of "is it okay" questions.
First there is the kind where you are genuinely asking if something is cool to do, like "Is it okay if I eat your last slice of pie?", because it may not be, and you know that, and if the person says that no, it's not okay, you're cool with that, because you totally understand that the person may want their last slice of pie, and life goes on.
The second kind, however, is the kind where, in a sane world, the thing you're asking is going to be okay, and no one in the world would reasonably deny the request, and you're only asking because asking is more polite than assuming or demanding. Like, "Is it okay if I use your bathroom?" at a friend's house, because your friend is totally going to say Yes, right?
Assuming the bathroom hasn't exploded or anything, of course. But you get my point; the second kind is a courtesy, rather than a genuine inquiry.
So, too, "Is it okay if we sit outside?", when the restaurant to whose employee you are putting the question (a) clearly features outdoor tables which are (b) currently completely unoccupied. This, without doubt, is a Courtesy Is It Okay.
At least I thought it was. Evidently, though, someone did not get the memo to Pissy Queen.
Pissy Queen swiveled, slowly, to face me, and gave me the most blatant, sneering once-over I have ever personally been the target of (and I say this having lived for eight years in L.A.), and snapped, "No."
Mm.
First I checked to make sure that I hadn't accidentally eaten a puppy in front of him, or shat on his patio without noticing, or something similarly stupendously awful enough to possibly justify this kind of behavior, but swiftly concluded that no, I had in fact just been standing there like a human, so I moved on to trying to remember if anyone else had ever managed to piss me off this thoroughly with a single syllable.
I'm guessing this showed to some extent (okay, maybe a lot of extent) on my face, because Pissy Queen then clarified, "We're closing."
SM, who having been on the phone was not really aware - yet - of the Pissy, told RD to hang on and said to Pissy Queen, "Oh! You're closed? Okay, then - " and she started to tell RD on the phone that no, we're not meeting at Alexandra's, at which point Pissy Queen interrupted to further clarify, "We're reopening at 5:30."
SM checked her watch, and blinked at Pissy Queen. I pulled out my cell, and confirmed the time: 5:20.
Uh-huh.
"So," SM said, slowly, "Is it okay if we just sit out here till you reopen? We're waiting for our friend anyway."
Pissy Queen didn't quite roll his eyes, but it was a near thing. "Sure, whatever," he said, and went back inside.
SM and I exchanged a look of Oh-KAY then!, and she finished telling RD where the place was and hung up as we sat at one of the tables. I inquired as to why it was that we were actually staying here, after that performance, and SM shrugged and opined that Whatever. I grunted and pulled out my book, and SM pulled out her magazine.
Ten minutes later, Dutchess arrived, and we settled in for a nice round of Catch-up. After about another ten minutes, RD looked around and said, "I'm really thirsty; did you guys already order?"
SM and I looked at each other and laughed, and we regaled RD with our Waiter Adventures thus far.
"Aw, he probably just had a big fight with his boyfriend," RD said sympathetically, having not yet been actually subjected to the Pissy. SM was dubious, since in her opinion he had seemed to take a dislike to me personally; her theory was that I reminded him of someone he hated. My personal theory, of course, was that he was a big giant pissy queen, and either way there was no excuse for getting his bitter all up in my Kool-Aid.
I craned my neck to peer into the large picture window beside us, to see Pissy Queen sitting at one of the tables (!) inside, ignoring us entirely - even though according to his cockamamie "schedule", they had been "reopen" for at least ten minutes - and we were the only customers in the place.
Oh, this just kept getting better.
SM put on her "fake cheerful" face and waved merrily and hugely and completely unmissably in the window, so that even Pissy Queen couldn't pretend he hadn't noticed, and made gestures indicating "Hi, ready to order now!"
I swear, Pissy Queen actually heaved a sigh as he hauled his pissy ass upright, to take the whole ten steps outside and, o woe, actually do his job.
It's times like these, I thought, that it's a shame I don't actually have Tourette's, or some other condition that would medically excuse my going apeshit all over this bitch. Because that would be awesome.
But, I am sadly sane, and thus had to settle for ordering a coffee in the most offensively dismissive way I could manage. Which, I am only sort of proud to say, can be pretty damn offensive when I put my mind to it.
Dutchess ordered a glass of Pellegrino, and SM asked for a glass of chardonnay, at which point Pissy Queen snottily requested her to choose from the "wines we have available", because WHO has CHARDONNAY, my GOD, and pointed at the list of wines by the glass, which was on a chunk of chalkboard resting in the... wire basket of a bicycle propped against the tree in front of the restaurant.
What?
Yeah, 'cause that's... classy.
SM peered at this in astonishment, and then said, "I'll have a glass of pinot..." And she hesitated, because the bike basket (!) was rather far away and the chalkboard hard to read, but of course Pissy Queen assumed she was an unlettered wine barbarian and finished "...Gris?" in a such a tone that he might as well have said, "Giant Moron?"
SM somehow refrained from braining him with the goddamn bike basket and merely agreed, while RD's eyebrows tried to climb off her forehead and I contemplated honing my fork-ninja skills.
Later, Pissy Queen tried to make like RD had ordered an entire bottle of Pellegrino even though she had very specifically said otherwise, and had to be grumpily persuaded to take it off the tab, and then, in a capper that I am CONVINCED he made up just to fuck with us, claimed that the only credit card the restaurant accepted was American Express.
Because, okay, seriously? No.
That's fucking retarded, is what that is. You accept AmEx, but not Mastercard or Visa? Even though the reason that 95% of the time it's the other way around is because AmEx charges half again as much percentage, FROM THE BUSINESS receiving the money, than either Mastercard or Visa? Really, what?
Sweet minty-fresh Jesus, y'all.
Fortunately we had enough cash on us that we could duck that fight, so we paid and got the hell out of Dodge. We left a 10% tip, which if you ask me was WAY generous, and vowed to never ever go there again.
Oh, and also, their bathroom was vile.
So, definitely in current 1st place for "worst New York restaurant experience". AND NOW YOU KNOW!
But other than that the weekend was lovely. No, really, it was.
The End!
P.S. #2 on my quiz was Hocus Pocus. Now, dance! Dance until you DIE!
2008-08-18 08:53 pm UTC (link) | |
| "Giant glass box of crazy" You have succinctly and perfectly described who I feel about the Michigan Avenue Apple Store! Which I am sure is not as crazy as the one in NY ('cause everything is crazier in NY, right?) but is definitely a big glass box full of too many people. |
2008-08-18 09:01 pm UTC (link) | |
| It's
entirely possible that they only take AmEx though the odds are against
it - their merchant fees are the highest in the industry, and it's
actually more likely that a restaurant does NOT take AmEx. Honestly, I would not have left the bitch one thin dime. He might have gotten and penny and and a note explaining exactly how much retraining he needs in order to be considered to at least be making an effort at his job, but there's not a chance in hell he would have gotten more than that. I'm thoroughly sympathetic to servers stuck in a bad sitch - new, restaurant is slammed and they're the only one on the floor, cook didn't show up on time, boiler blew up, any number of things - but deliberate rudeness will only get you the finger. And possibly a complaint to the manager. |
2008-08-18 09:05 pm UTC (link) | |
| If ever there was a justification for the negative tipping situation, this guy was the epitome of it. (My niece's friend is a big fan of "negative tipping". You leave 5 or 10 cents less than the bill, not enough that the owner would get upset about, but enough that the waiter knows exactly how much contempt you have for him.) |
2008-08-19 01:10 am UTC (link) | |
| "If ever there was a justification for the negative tipping situation, this guy was the epitome of it." what would that be? "umm, Excuse me Mary, but your service so abominable, we feel that you each of us three dollars? |
2008-08-19 01:21 am UTC (link) | |
| Just short-pay. I do it all the time, because they always try to charge me the SO-CALLED and UNCONSTITUTIONAL "$ale$ tax", and I will not pay that. |
2008-08-18 09:06 pm UTC (link) | |
| You tipped *at all*? I'd have insisted on exact change, demanded to speak to the manager, and registered a complaint with the owner before leaving and being much louder than you about where it was and the name and website. Actually, strike that, I'd have spoken to the manager after the initial 20 minute fiasco, then left and taken my money elsewhere. I'm surprised you put up with that. Seriously. That kind of "service" is unforgivable. |
2008-08-18 09:58 pm UTC (link) | |
| Honestly
I think we just didn't feel like it was worth it. Dutchess only had
thirty minutes to hang with us because she had a meeting to get to, and
really, after my initial pissed-offedness it just started being funny.
Like, we were all, WHAT will he do next? And then, he really was just this bitter pissy queen who works for shit money in a bistro. He wasn't worth the ten minutes out of my day it would have taken to screw up his life. |
2008-08-18 10:04 pm UTC (link) | |
| I still wouldn't have left *any* tip. |
2008-08-18 10:07 pm UTC (link) | |
| We left him the change, which worked out to a 10% tip. This had the benefit of cutting down by one the number of times we had to interact with him. I figure it was worth it. |
2008-08-18 11:09 pm UTC (link) | |
| Sloth beats wrath every time, I say. |
2008-08-19 12:34 am UTC (link) | |
| Amen, I said amen! |
2008-08-19 01:19 am UTC (link) | |
| I want this on a t-shirt or commemorative plaque. |
2008-08-18 11:18 pm UTC (link) | |
| I
had a similar experience myself, and in that case I left two pennies on
the table as a tip. Leaving nothing might be mistaken for forgetfulness
or some crazy moral objection to tipping; saying that the lousy service
was worth only two cents to me, however, is less ambiguous. -- Steve usually tips generously, but not if the server was a jerk. PS: I know this kinda messes things up for the kitchen staff if they get a cut, but sadly I can't leave a tip just for them. |
2008-08-18 11:21 pm UTC (link) | |
| The kitchen staff will figure it out fast enough. (There's also the classic method of leaving a single penny underneath an *upturned* full water glass. I've always liked that one in principle, but never had bad enough service to ever even consider doing it.) |
2008-08-19 01:03 am UTC (link) | |
| Being
able to leave such a tip would imply good-enough service that you had a
full glass of water on your table. That alone takes the service out of unterseepfennigland, in my opinion. -- Steve reserves low tips for such service as, "salad warmer than the entree", or "been waiting for the cheque for half an hour", or similar discourtesies. |
2008-08-18 11:38 pm UTC (link) | |
| or shat on his patio without noticing, This happens with you, does it? |
2008-08-19 12:27 am UTC (link) | |
| Um, so, about the last time I was at your apartment... |
2008-08-19 01:09 am UTC (link) | |
| Oh, thank god! I thought that was mine! |
2008-08-19 01:15 am UTC (link) | |
| So glad I did not read this exchange at work.... |
2008-08-19 01:06 am UTC (link) | |
| Errr.... anyone recall me regaling them with this lovely little sojurn in the SoHo Apple store? Grrrrr.... |
2008-08-19 05:01 am UTC (link) | |
| I do! |
2008-08-19 05:04 am UTC (link) | |
| First
I checked to make sure that I hadn't accidentally eaten a puppy in
front of him, or shat on his patio without noticing, or something I started barking with laughter so loudly at this point, that Jeff came running to see what was going on. And then I made him back up and read from the beginning. Bwahahaha. My temper usually gets the best of me in these situations (beating out sloth) but when in circumstances like limited time, I would have probably done the same thing. |
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Blog Plan Paste
I had started a log, and written about How to get the most out of it, Objectives of Blogging and Plans for the future.
I have repeated it many times since, and it can also form the basis or background for all internet activity
I am pasting it below as well as create a file copy.
Some good Ideas today-
Software - Vista MSN $300 - Download
Free on Linux.
Paste of Blog Plan
| Leigh Butler ( @ 2008-08-18 09:51:00 |
| Current mood: | |
| Entry tags: | asshole customer service, dining out, new york, rants |
In which I DO mind the PQs
I'm amazed about this in retrospect, but nevertheless it is only now,
after almost a year living in New York, that I have finally had a
Terrible Waiter Experience in a restaurant.
So, Saturday SM and I had to go into the city for different reasons: I wanted to go pick up some library books that were on hold for me (new Temeraire book, YAY), and SM needed to go to the Apple store to buy a new AC cord for her laptop, as hers had died.
SM, however, loathes going to the Apple stores in Manhattan, because (a) they are all designed with translucent stairs and walls and floors, which is meant to be all funky and hip and shit, but also is kind of terrifying for the vertigo-prone, and (b) they are inevitably stuffed to the GILLS with people. Mostly tourists. Seriously, if you want to see a prime example of what I can only call a veritable orgy of consumerism, head on down to the Apple store on 5th and 59th. IF YOU DARE.
SM, let us say, is really, really not down with large crowds of people shoving her around inside, essentially, a giant glass box of crazy. Accordingly, she asked me to come with her as moral (and possibly bouncerial) support, and in return she would let me haul her to the two different library branches I needed to go to to pick up the books I had on hold (for reasons too boring to explain).
She also very wisely elected to go to the much less obnoxious Apple store in the Meatpacking District instead of the Giant Glass Box of Crazy on 5th. This was cool for me, in that I had sort of brushed by the Meatpacking District before but not really been in it, as such, before. At least I don't think I had. Anyway.
So, we went to the Apple store on 14th, which was still stupid crowded but not nearly as bad as the 5th Avenue store would have been, and got in and out with skin and psyches intact, and went across the street to have lunch at the Diner.
No, this is not where I had the bad waiter experience. Our waiter there was perfectly adequate, and the food was WAY better than adequate. I had this chicken burger with aioli and avocado and provolone that was KICKASS, y'all, and SM convinced the guys there to make her a chocolate and peanut butter milkshake even though it wasn't on the menu, and while that is definitely not my thing, SM was Pleased.
Afterwards we debated simply going back to Queens, but the weather that day was absolutely gorgeous, and it was a shame to just go home, you know? So we decided to walk down to the Hudson River Park only a few blocks away.
It was pretty darn lovely, I must say. There was some kind of festival/outdoor concert thingy going on on the big pier (Flogging Molly was one of the musical guests), but unfortunately the entrance fee proved to be a whopping 70 bucks, which, no. SM and I walked on, down to the next pier which had a playground surrounded by a promenade with benches where you could sit and enjoy the New Jersey skyline across the river. I was surprised to find that the New Jersey skyline? Not too shabby.
The cool breeze and the sunlight glinting off the water and the distant proud outline of the Statue of Liberty helped with that, of course.
SM showed me where, had they been there, the World Trade Center towers would have, well, towered on the jutting lower bit of the city behind us, outlining them with her fingers against empty sky.
We lingered for a bit, then just sort of wandered up and around a ways until we found ourselves back in the Village. Since we were in SM's friend's (whom we shall call Red Dutchess) neck of the woods, we called her up to see if she wanted to meet us for coffee. RD did indeed, and so we wound up at a place called Alexandra's on Hudson Street.
Well.
If you have been waiting for the length of this entry with bated breath for the Terrible Waiter Experience, look no further, for here it is.
We walked up just as the waiter, who for the duration shall be known as Pissy Queen, was walking out to swipe the silverware off the tables on the outdoor patio. SM was on the phone with RD, telling her where we were so she could meet us, so I smiled and said to Pissy Queen, "Is it okay if we sit outside?"
Now, there are two kinds of "is it okay" questions.
First there is the kind where you are genuinely asking if something is cool to do, like "Is it okay if I eat your last slice of pie?", because it may not be, and you know that, and if the person says that no, it's not okay, you're cool with that, because you totally understand that the person may want their last slice of pie, and life goes on.
The second kind, however, is the kind where, in a sane world, the thing you're asking is going to be okay, and no one in the world would reasonably deny the request, and you're only asking because asking is more polite than assuming or demanding. Like, "Is it okay if I use your bathroom?" at a friend's house, because your friend is totally going to say Yes, right?
Assuming the bathroom hasn't exploded or anything, of course. But you get my point; the second kind is a courtesy, rather than a genuine inquiry.
So, too, "Is it okay if we sit outside?", when the restaurant to whose employee you are putting the question (a) clearly features outdoor tables which are (b) currently completely unoccupied. This, without doubt, is a Courtesy Is It Okay.
At least I thought it was. Evidently, though, someone did not get the memo to Pissy Queen.
Pissy Queen swiveled, slowly, to face me, and gave me the most blatant, sneering once-over I have ever personally been the target of (and I say this having lived for eight years in L.A.), and snapped, "No."
Mm.
First I checked to make sure that I hadn't accidentally eaten a puppy in front of him, or shat on his patio without noticing, or something similarly stupendously awful enough to possibly justify this kind of behavior, but swiftly concluded that no, I had in fact just been standing there like a human, so I moved on to trying to remember if anyone else had ever managed to piss me off this thoroughly with a single syllable.
I'm guessing this showed to some extent (okay, maybe a lot of extent) on my face, because Pissy Queen then clarified, "We're closing."
SM, who having been on the phone was not really aware - yet - of the Pissy, told RD to hang on and said to Pissy Queen, "Oh! You're closed? Okay, then - " and she started to tell RD on the phone that no, we're not meeting at Alexandra's, at which point Pissy Queen interrupted to further clarify, "We're reopening at 5:30."
SM checked her watch, and blinked at Pissy Queen. I pulled out my cell, and confirmed the time: 5:20.
Uh-huh.
"So," SM said, slowly, "Is it okay if we just sit out here till you reopen? We're waiting for our friend anyway."
Pissy Queen didn't quite roll his eyes, but it was a near thing. "Sure, whatever," he said, and went back inside.
SM and I exchanged a look of Oh-KAY then!, and she finished telling RD where the place was and hung up as we sat at one of the tables. I inquired as to why it was that we were actually staying here, after that performance, and SM shrugged and opined that Whatever. I grunted and pulled out my book, and SM pulled out her magazine.
Ten minutes later, Dutchess arrived, and we settled in for a nice round of Catch-up. After about another ten minutes, RD looked around and said, "I'm really thirsty; did you guys already order?"
SM and I looked at each other and laughed, and we regaled RD with our Waiter Adventures thus far.
"Aw, he probably just had a big fight with his boyfriend," RD said sympathetically, having not yet been actually subjected to the Pissy. SM was dubious, since in her opinion he had seemed to take a dislike to me personally; her theory was that I reminded him of someone he hated. My personal theory, of course, was that he was a big giant pissy queen, and either way there was no excuse for getting his bitter all up in my Kool-Aid.
I craned my neck to peer into the large picture window beside us, to see Pissy Queen sitting at one of the tables (!) inside, ignoring us entirely - even though according to his cockamamie "schedule", they had been "reopen" for at least ten minutes - and we were the only customers in the place.
Oh, this just kept getting better.
SM put on her "fake cheerful" face and waved merrily and hugely and completely unmissably in the window, so that even Pissy Queen couldn't pretend he hadn't noticed, and made gestures indicating "Hi, ready to order now!"
I swear, Pissy Queen actually heaved a sigh as he hauled his pissy ass upright, to take the whole ten steps outside and, o woe, actually do his job.
It's times like these, I thought, that it's a shame I don't actually have Tourette's, or some other condition that would medically excuse my going apeshit all over this bitch. Because that would be awesome.
But, I am sadly sane, and thus had to settle for ordering a coffee in the most offensively dismissive way I could manage. Which, I am only sort of proud to say, can be pretty damn offensive when I put my mind to it.
Dutchess ordered a glass of Pellegrino, and SM asked for a glass of chardonnay, at which point Pissy Queen snottily requested her to choose from the "wines we have available", because WHO has CHARDONNAY, my GOD, and pointed at the list of wines by the glass, which was on a chunk of chalkboard resting in the... wire basket of a bicycle propped against the tree in front of the restaurant.
What?
Yeah, 'cause that's... classy.
SM peered at this in astonishment, and then said, "I'll have a glass of pinot..." And she hesitated, because the bike basket (!) was rather far away and the chalkboard hard to read, but of course Pissy Queen assumed she was an unlettered wine barbarian and finished "...Gris?" in a such a tone that he might as well have said, "Giant Moron?"
SM somehow refrained from braining him with the goddamn bike basket and merely agreed, while RD's eyebrows tried to climb off her forehead and I contemplated honing my fork-ninja skills.
Later, Pissy Queen tried to make like RD had ordered an entire bottle of Pellegrino even though she had very specifically said otherwise, and had to be grumpily persuaded to take it off the tab, and then, in a capper that I am CONVINCED he made up just to fuck with us, claimed that the only credit card the restaurant accepted was American Express.
Because, okay, seriously? No.
That's fucking retarded, is what that is. You accept AmEx, but not Mastercard or Visa? Even though the reason that 95% of the time it's the other way around is because AmEx charges half again as much percentage, FROM THE BUSINESS receiving the money, than either Mastercard or Visa? Really, what?
Sweet minty-fresh Jesus, y'all.
Fortunately we had enough cash on us that we could duck that fight, so we paid and got the hell out of Dodge. We left a 10% tip, which if you ask me was WAY generous, and vowed to never ever go there again.
Oh, and also, their bathroom was vile.
So, definitely in current 1st place for "worst New York restaurant experience". AND NOW YOU KNOW!
But other than that the weekend was lovely. No, really, it was.
The End!
P.S. #2 on my quiz was Hocus Pocus. Now, dance! Dance until you DIE!
2008-08-18 08:53 pm UTC (link) | |
| "Giant glass box of crazy" You have succinctly and perfectly described who I feel about the Michigan Avenue Apple Store! Which I am sure is not as crazy as the one in NY ('cause everything is crazier in NY, right?) but is definitely a big glass box full of too many people. |
2008-08-18 09:01 pm UTC (link) | |
| It's
entirely possible that they only take AmEx though the odds are against
it - their merchant fees are the highest in the industry, and it's
actually more likely that a restaurant does NOT take AmEx. Honestly, I would not have left the bitch one thin dime. He might have gotten and penny and and a note explaining exactly how much retraining he needs in order to be considered to at least be making an effort at his job, but there's not a chance in hell he would have gotten more than that. I'm thoroughly sympathetic to servers stuck in a bad sitch - new, restaurant is slammed and they're the only one on the floor, cook didn't show up on time, boiler blew up, any number of things - but deliberate rudeness will only get you the finger. And possibly a complaint to the manager. |
2008-08-18 09:05 pm UTC (link) | |
| If ever there was a justification for the negative tipping situation, this guy was the epitome of it. (My niece's friend is a big fan of "negative tipping". You leave 5 or 10 cents less than the bill, not enough that the owner would get upset about, but enough that the waiter knows exactly how much contempt you have for him.) |
2008-08-19 01:10 am UTC (link) | |
| "If ever there was a justification for the negative tipping situation, this guy was the epitome of it." what would that be? "umm, Excuse me Mary, but your service so abominable, we feel that you each of us three dollars? |
2008-08-19 01:21 am UTC (link) | |
| Just short-pay. I do it all the time, because they always try to charge me the SO-CALLED and UNCONSTITUTIONAL "$ale$ tax", and I will not pay that. |
2008-08-18 09:06 pm UTC (link) | |
| You tipped *at all*? I'd have insisted on exact change, demanded to speak to the manager, and registered a complaint with the owner before leaving and being much louder than you about where it was and the name and website. Actually, strike that, I'd have spoken to the manager after the initial 20 minute fiasco, then left and taken my money elsewhere. I'm surprised you put up with that. Seriously. That kind of "service" is unforgivable. |
2008-08-18 09:58 pm UTC (link) | |
| Honestly
I think we just didn't feel like it was worth it. Dutchess only had
thirty minutes to hang with us because she had a meeting to get to, and
really, after my initial pissed-offedness it just started being funny.
Like, we were all, WHAT will he do next? And then, he really was just this bitter pissy queen who works for shit money in a bistro. He wasn't worth the ten minutes out of my day it would have taken to screw up his life. |
2008-08-18 10:04 pm UTC (link) | |
| I still wouldn't have left *any* tip. |
2008-08-18 10:07 pm UTC (link) | |
| We left him the change, which worked out to a 10% tip. This had the benefit of cutting down by one the number of times we had to interact with him. I figure it was worth it. |
2008-08-18 11:09 pm UTC (link) | |
| Sloth beats wrath every time, I say. |
2008-08-19 12:34 am UTC (link) | |
| Amen, I said amen! |
2008-08-19 01:19 am UTC (link) | |
| I want this on a t-shirt or commemorative plaque. |
2008-08-18 11:18 pm UTC (link) | |
| I
had a similar experience myself, and in that case I left two pennies on
the table as a tip. Leaving nothing might be mistaken for forgetfulness
or some crazy moral objection to tipping; saying that the lousy service
was worth only two cents to me, however, is less ambiguous. -- Steve usually tips generously, but not if the server was a jerk. PS: I know this kinda messes things up for the kitchen staff if they get a cut, but sadly I can't leave a tip just for them. |
2008-08-18 11:21 pm UTC (link) | |
| The kitchen staff will figure it out fast enough. (There's also the classic method of leaving a single penny underneath an *upturned* full water glass. I've always liked that one in principle, but never had bad enough service to ever even consider doing it.) |
2008-08-19 01:03 am UTC (link) | |
| Being
able to leave such a tip would imply good-enough service that you had a
full glass of water on your table. That alone takes the service out of unterseepfennigland, in my opinion. -- Steve reserves low tips for such service as, "salad warmer than the entree", or "been waiting for the cheque for half an hour", or similar discourtesies. |
2008-08-18 11:38 pm UTC (link) | |
| or shat on his patio without noticing, This happens with you, does it? |
2008-08-19 12:27 am UTC (link) | |
| Um, so, about the last time I was at your apartment... |
2008-08-19 01:09 am UTC (link) | |
| Oh, thank god! I thought that was mine! |
2008-08-19 01:15 am UTC (link) | |
| So glad I did not read this exchange at work.... |
2008-08-19 01:06 am UTC (link) | |
| Errr.... anyone recall me regaling them with this lovely little sojurn in the SoHo Apple store? Grrrrr.... |
2008-08-19 05:01 am UTC (link) | |
| I do! |
2008-08-19 05:04 am UTC (link) | |
| First
I checked to make sure that I hadn't accidentally eaten a puppy in
front of him, or shat on his patio without noticing, or something I started barking with laughter so loudly at this point, that Jeff came running to see what was going on. And then I made him back up and read from the beginning. Bwahahaha. My temper usually gets the best of me in these situations (beating out sloth) but when in circumstances like limited time, I would have probably done the same thing. |
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Newyork Street Scene Blog Copy
I had started a blog, and written about How to get the most out of it (Blog), Objectives of Blogging and Plans for the future.
Nut made a mistake in copying and Pasying. So You get a copy of NY street walk.
I have repeated it many times since, and it can also form the basis or background for all internet activity
I am pasting it below as well as create a file copy.
Some good Ideas today-
Software - Vista MSN $300 - Download
Free on Linux.
Paste of Blog Plan
| Leigh Butler ( @ 2008-08-18 09:51:00 |
| Current mood: | |
| Entry tags: | asshole customer service, dining out, new york, rants |
In which I DO mind the PQs
I'm amazed about this in retrospect, but nevertheless it is only now,
after almost a year living in New York, that I have finally had a
Terrible Waiter Experience in a restaurant.
So, Saturday SM and I had to go into the city for different reasons: I wanted to go pick up some library books that were on hold for me (new Temeraire book, YAY), and SM needed to go to the Apple store to buy a new AC cord for her laptop, as hers had died.
SM, however, loathes going to the Apple stores in Manhattan, because (a) they are all designed with translucent stairs and walls and floors, which is meant to be all funky and hip and shit, but also is kind of terrifying for the vertigo-prone, and (b) they are inevitably stuffed to the GILLS with people. Mostly tourists. Seriously, if you want to see a prime example of what I can only call a veritable orgy of consumerism, head on down to the Apple store on 5th and 59th. IF YOU DARE.
SM, let us say, is really, really not down with large crowds of people shoving her around inside, essentially, a giant glass box of crazy. Accordingly, she asked me to come with her as moral (and possibly bouncerial) support, and in return she would let me haul her to the two different library branches I needed to go to to pick up the books I had on hold (for reasons too boring to explain).
She also very wisely elected to go to the much less obnoxious Apple store in the Meatpacking District instead of the Giant Glass Box of Crazy on 5th. This was cool for me, in that I had sort of brushed by the Meatpacking District before but not really been in it, as such, before. At least I don't think I had. Anyway.
So, we went to the Apple store on 14th, which was still stupid crowded but not nearly as bad as the 5th Avenue store would have been, and got in and out with skin and psyches intact, and went across the street to have lunch at the Diner.
No, this is not where I had the bad waiter experience. Our waiter there was perfectly adequate, and the food was WAY better than adequate. I had this chicken burger with aioli and avocado and provolone that was KICKASS, y'all, and SM convinced the guys there to make her a chocolate and peanut butter milkshake even though it wasn't on the menu, and while that is definitely not my thing, SM was Pleased.
Afterwards we debated simply going back to Queens, but the weather that day was absolutely gorgeous, and it was a shame to just go home, you know? So we decided to walk down to the Hudson River Park only a few blocks away.
It was pretty darn lovely, I must say. There was some kind of festival/outdoor concert thingy going on on the big pier (Flogging Molly was one of the musical guests), but unfortunately the entrance fee proved to be a whopping 70 bucks, which, no. SM and I walked on, down to the next pier which had a playground surrounded by a promenade with benches where you could sit and enjoy the New Jersey skyline across the river. I was surprised to find that the New Jersey skyline? Not too shabby.
The cool breeze and the sunlight glinting off the water and the distant proud outline of the Statue of Liberty helped with that, of course.
SM showed me where, had they been there, the World Trade Center towers would have, well, towered on the jutting lower bit of the city behind us, outlining them with her fingers against empty sky.
We lingered for a bit, then just sort of wandered up and around a ways until we found ourselves back in the Village. Since we were in SM's friend's (whom we shall call Red Dutchess) neck of the woods, we called her up to see if she wanted to meet us for coffee. RD did indeed, and so we wound up at a place called Alexandra's on Hudson Street.
Well.
If you have been waiting for the length of this entry with bated breath for the Terrible Waiter Experience, look no further, for here it is.
We walked up just as the waiter, who for the duration shall be known as Pissy Queen, was walking out to swipe the silverware off the tables on the outdoor patio. SM was on the phone with RD, telling her where we were so she could meet us, so I smiled and said to Pissy Queen, "Is it okay if we sit outside?"
Now, there are two kinds of "is it okay" questions.
First there is the kind where you are genuinely asking if something is cool to do, like "Is it okay if I eat your last slice of pie?", because it may not be, and you know that, and if the person says that no, it's not okay, you're cool with that, because you totally understand that the person may want their last slice of pie, and life goes on.
The second kind, however, is the kind where, in a sane world, the thing you're asking is going to be okay, and no one in the world would reasonably deny the request, and you're only asking because asking is more polite than assuming or demanding. Like, "Is it okay if I use your bathroom?" at a friend's house, because your friend is totally going to say Yes, right?
Assuming the bathroom hasn't exploded or anything, of course. But you get my point; the second kind is a courtesy, rather than a genuine inquiry.
So, too, "Is it okay if we sit outside?", when the restaurant to whose employee you are putting the question (a) clearly features outdoor tables which are (b) currently completely unoccupied. This, without doubt, is a Courtesy Is It Okay.
At least I thought it was. Evidently, though, someone did not get the memo to Pissy Queen.
Pissy Queen swiveled, slowly, to face me, and gave me the most blatant, sneering once-over I have ever personally been the target of (and I say this having lived for eight years in L.A.), and snapped, "No."
Mm.
First I checked to make sure that I hadn't accidentally eaten a puppy in front of him, or shat on his patio without noticing, or something similarly stupendously awful enough to possibly justify this kind of behavior, but swiftly concluded that no, I had in fact just been standing there like a human, so I moved on to trying to remember if anyone else had ever managed to piss me off this thoroughly with a single syllable.
I'm guessing this showed to some extent (okay, maybe a lot of extent) on my face, because Pissy Queen then clarified, "We're closing."
SM, who having been on the phone was not really aware - yet - of the Pissy, told RD to hang on and said to Pissy Queen, "Oh! You're closed? Okay, then - " and she started to tell RD on the phone that no, we're not meeting at Alexandra's, at which point Pissy Queen interrupted to further clarify, "We're reopening at 5:30."
SM checked her watch, and blinked at Pissy Queen. I pulled out my cell, and confirmed the time: 5:20.
Uh-huh.
"So," SM said, slowly, "Is it okay if we just sit out here till you reopen? We're waiting for our friend anyway."
Pissy Queen didn't quite roll his eyes, but it was a near thing. "Sure, whatever," he said, and went back inside.
SM and I exchanged a look of Oh-KAY then!, and she finished telling RD where the place was and hung up as we sat at one of the tables. I inquired as to why it was that we were actually staying here, after that performance, and SM shrugged and opined that Whatever. I grunted and pulled out my book, and SM pulled out her magazine.
Ten minutes later, Dutchess arrived, and we settled in for a nice round of Catch-up. After about another ten minutes, RD looked around and said, "I'm really thirsty; did you guys already order?"
SM and I looked at each other and laughed, and we regaled RD with our Waiter Adventures thus far.
"Aw, he probably just had a big fight with his boyfriend," RD said sympathetically, having not yet been actually subjected to the Pissy. SM was dubious, since in her opinion he had seemed to take a dislike to me personally; her theory was that I reminded him of someone he hated. My personal theory, of course, was that he was a big giant pissy queen, and either way there was no excuse for getting his bitter all up in my Kool-Aid.
I craned my neck to peer into the large picture window beside us, to see Pissy Queen sitting at one of the tables (!) inside, ignoring us entirely - even though according to his cockamamie "schedule", they had been "reopen" for at least ten minutes - and we were the only customers in the place.
Oh, this just kept getting better.
SM put on her "fake cheerful" face and waved merrily and hugely and completely unmissably in the window, so that even Pissy Queen couldn't pretend he hadn't noticed, and made gestures indicating "Hi, ready to order now!"
I swear, Pissy Queen actually heaved a sigh as he hauled his pissy ass upright, to take the whole ten steps outside and, o woe, actually do his job.
It's times like these, I thought, that it's a shame I don't actually have Tourette's, or some other condition that would medically excuse my going apeshit all over this bitch. Because that would be awesome.
But, I am sadly sane, and thus had to settle for ordering a coffee in the most offensively dismissive way I could manage. Which, I am only sort of proud to say, can be pretty damn offensive when I put my mind to it.
Dutchess ordered a glass of Pellegrino, and SM asked for a glass of chardonnay, at which point Pissy Queen snottily requested her to choose from the "wines we have available", because WHO has CHARDONNAY, my GOD, and pointed at the list of wines by the glass, which was on a chunk of chalkboard resting in the... wire basket of a bicycle propped against the tree in front of the restaurant.
What?
Yeah, 'cause that's... classy.
SM peered at this in astonishment, and then said, "I'll have a glass of pinot..." And she hesitated, because the bike basket (!) was rather far away and the chalkboard hard to read, but of course Pissy Queen assumed she was an unlettered wine barbarian and finished "...Gris?" in a such a tone that he might as well have said, "Giant Moron?"
SM somehow refrained from braining him with the goddamn bike basket and merely agreed, while RD's eyebrows tried to climb off her forehead and I contemplated honing my fork-ninja skills.
Later, Pissy Queen tried to make like RD had ordered an entire bottle of Pellegrino even though she had very specifically said otherwise, and had to be grumpily persuaded to take it off the tab, and then, in a capper that I am CONVINCED he made up just to fuck with us, claimed that the only credit card the restaurant accepted was American Express.
Because, okay, seriously? No.
That's fucking retarded, is what that is. You accept AmEx, but not Mastercard or Visa? Even though the reason that 95% of the time it's the other way around is because AmEx charges half again as much percentage, FROM THE BUSINESS receiving the money, than either Mastercard or Visa? Really, what?
Sweet minty-fresh Jesus, y'all.
Fortunately we had enough cash on us that we could duck that fight, so we paid and got the hell out of Dodge. We left a 10% tip, which if you ask me was WAY generous, and vowed to never ever go there again.
Oh, and also, their bathroom was vile.
So, definitely in current 1st place for "worst New York restaurant experience". AND NOW YOU KNOW!
But other than that the weekend was lovely. No, really, it was.
The End!
P.S. #2 on my quiz was Hocus Pocus. Now, dance! Dance until you DIE!
2008-08-18 08:53 pm UTC (link) | |
| "Giant glass box of crazy" You have succinctly and perfectly described who I feel about the Michigan Avenue Apple Store! Which I am sure is not as crazy as the one in NY ('cause everything is crazier in NY, right?) but is definitely a big glass box full of too many people. |
2008-08-18 09:01 pm UTC (link) | |
| It's
entirely possible that they only take AmEx though the odds are against
it - their merchant fees are the highest in the industry, and it's
actually more likely that a restaurant does NOT take AmEx. Honestly, I would not have left the bitch one thin dime. He might have gotten and penny and and a note explaining exactly how much retraining he needs in order to be considered to at least be making an effort at his job, but there's not a chance in hell he would have gotten more than that. I'm thoroughly sympathetic to servers stuck in a bad sitch - new, restaurant is slammed and they're the only one on the floor, cook didn't show up on time, boiler blew up, any number of things - but deliberate rudeness will only get you the finger. And possibly a complaint to the manager. |
2008-08-18 09:05 pm UTC (link) | |
| If ever there was a justification for the negative tipping situation, this guy was the epitome of it. (My niece's friend is a big fan of "negative tipping". You leave 5 or 10 cents less than the bill, not enough that the owner would get upset about, but enough that the waiter knows exactly how much contempt you have for him.) |
2008-08-19 01:10 am UTC (link) | |
| "If ever there was a justification for the negative tipping situation, this guy was the epitome of it." what would that be? "umm, Excuse me Mary, but your service so abominable, we feel that you each of us three dollars? |
2008-08-19 01:21 am UTC (link) | |
| Just short-pay. I do it all the time, because they always try to charge me the SO-CALLED and UNCONSTITUTIONAL "$ale$ tax", and I will not pay that. |
2008-08-18 09:06 pm UTC (link) | |
| You tipped *at all*? I'd have insisted on exact change, demanded to speak to the manager, and registered a complaint with the owner before leaving and being much louder than you about where it was and the name and website. Actually, strike that, I'd have spoken to the manager after the initial 20 minute fiasco, then left and taken my money elsewhere. I'm surprised you put up with that. Seriously. That kind of "service" is unforgivable. |
2008-08-18 09:58 pm UTC (link) | |
| Honestly
I think we just didn't feel like it was worth it. Dutchess only had
thirty minutes to hang with us because she had a meeting to get to, and
really, after my initial pissed-offedness it just started being funny.
Like, we were all, WHAT will he do next? And then, he really was just this bitter pissy queen who works for shit money in a bistro. He wasn't worth the ten minutes out of my day it would have taken to screw up his life. |
2008-08-18 10:04 pm UTC (link) | |
| I still wouldn't have left *any* tip. |
2008-08-18 10:07 pm UTC (link) | |
| We left him the change, which worked out to a 10% tip. This had the benefit of cutting down by one the number of times we had to interact with him. I figure it was worth it. |
2008-08-18 11:09 pm UTC (link) | |
| Sloth beats wrath every time, I say. |
2008-08-19 12:34 am UTC (link) | |
| Amen, I said amen! |
2008-08-19 01:19 am UTC (link) | |
| I want this on a t-shirt or commemorative plaque. |
2008-08-18 11:18 pm UTC (link) | |
| I
had a similar experience myself, and in that case I left two pennies on
the table as a tip. Leaving nothing might be mistaken for forgetfulness
or some crazy moral objection to tipping; saying that the lousy service
was worth only two cents to me, however, is less ambiguous. -- Steve usually tips generously, but not if the server was a jerk. PS: I know this kinda messes things up for the kitchen staff if they get a cut, but sadly I can't leave a tip just for them. |
2008-08-18 11:21 pm UTC (link) | |
| The kitchen staff will figure it out fast enough. (There's also the classic method of leaving a single penny underneath an *upturned* full water glass. I've always liked that one in principle, but never had bad enough service to ever even consider doing it.) |
2008-08-19 01:03 am UTC (link) | |
| Being
able to leave such a tip would imply good-enough service that you had a
full glass of water on your table. That alone takes the service out of unterseepfennigland, in my opinion. -- Steve reserves low tips for such service as, "salad warmer than the entree", or "been waiting for the cheque for half an hour", or similar discourtesies. |
2008-08-18 11:38 pm UTC (link) | |
| or shat on his patio without noticing, This happens with you, does it? |
2008-08-19 12:27 am UTC (link) | |
| Um, so, about the last time I was at your apartment... |
2008-08-19 01:09 am UTC (link) | |
| Oh, thank god! I thought that was mine! |
2008-08-19 01:15 am UTC (link) | |
| So glad I did not read this exchange at work.... |
2008-08-19 01:06 am UTC (link) | |
| Errr.... anyone recall me regaling them with this lovely little sojurn in the SoHo Apple store? Grrrrr.... |
2008-08-19 05:01 am UTC (link) | |
| I do! |
2008-08-19 05:04 am UTC (link) | |
| First
I checked to make sure that I hadn't accidentally eaten a puppy in
front of him, or shat on his patio without noticing, or something I started barking with laughter so loudly at this point, that Jeff came running to see what was going on. And then I made him back up and read from the beginning. Bwahahaha. My temper usually gets the best of me in these situations (beating out sloth) but when in circumstances like limited time, I would have probably done the same thing. |
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Create an Account Forgot your login? Login w/ OpenID |
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