Out for some gabagool
Since
we have a car in our use for the weekend, we went to an Italian
restaurant that is located in the commercial area of the town sprawled
out so that when the driving instructions said that the place is three
blocks from a major intersection, each of these blocks was perhaps
about a kilometer long. There would certainly be room for some new
residential construction over there, if the zoning officials were more
flexible about this. Eventually they might have to, this little city
growing as fast as it does, probably taking over San Fran in less than
two years.
Anyway, when I stepped to the washroom after ordering my pasta, one of the two stalls was occupied and in the other one, the toilet was full off poo. I tried to flush the toilet but it was clogged. Oh well. On the way out, I thought that I'd discreetly mention this to the hostess so that she could send somebody to take care of it, but then started thinking that perhaps she'll think that I made the mess, and then imagined some Larry David -style scenarios playing out from there. I wonder if there is an established protocol for what I or somebody should have done there. But the food in the place was good (I don't know if this had anything to do with the fact that some people there looked like a casting session for The Sopranos was going on), even though the waiter initially brought me the wrong type of pasta. I thought that these must be some weird Italian special sausages, even though they were chicken pieces.
Hey, perhaps this would be a good place for me to let my readers decide a small incident from last summer when we went to an Italian restaurant in the City. My wife ordered a pizza from the part of the menu in which the base costs a certain amount and each topping costs extra. When we had eaten and they brought the cheque, her pizza cost two dollars more than it should have cost according to this build-your-own menu. When we asked about it, the waiter explained that since that particular combination was one of the regular named pizzas in their main menu, they charge the price of the said pizza for it. My wife got annoyed when the waitress tried to explain the obscure logic behind this to us and started get the tone as if we were stupid not understanding this. Eventually her shift boss came to our table and explained that the price is already in the computer and she has no power to change prices. We just let it stand at that, but simply tipped the waitress two bucks less than we would normally have. What do my readers think of this situation?
Anyway, when I stepped to the washroom after ordering my pasta, one of the two stalls was occupied and in the other one, the toilet was full off poo. I tried to flush the toilet but it was clogged. Oh well. On the way out, I thought that I'd discreetly mention this to the hostess so that she could send somebody to take care of it, but then started thinking that perhaps she'll think that I made the mess, and then imagined some Larry David -style scenarios playing out from there. I wonder if there is an established protocol for what I or somebody should have done there. But the food in the place was good (I don't know if this had anything to do with the fact that some people there looked like a casting session for The Sopranos was going on), even though the waiter initially brought me the wrong type of pasta. I thought that these must be some weird Italian special sausages, even though they were chicken pieces.
Hey, perhaps this would be a good place for me to let my readers decide a small incident from last summer when we went to an Italian restaurant in the City. My wife ordered a pizza from the part of the menu in which the base costs a certain amount and each topping costs extra. When we had eaten and they brought the cheque, her pizza cost two dollars more than it should have cost according to this build-your-own menu. When we asked about it, the waiter explained that since that particular combination was one of the regular named pizzas in their main menu, they charge the price of the said pizza for it. My wife got annoyed when the waitress tried to explain the obscure logic behind this to us and started get the tone as if we were stupid not understanding this. Eventually her shift boss came to our table and explained that the price is already in the computer and she has no power to change prices. We just let it stand at that, but simply tipped the waitress two bucks less than we would normally have. What do my readers think of this situation?
You tipped the waitress?
Posted by Otto Kerner | 1:17 PM
Two bucks less than we would otherwise have, yes.
I have never had the spine to leave just 2 cents, although that is as close as I have ever got.
Posted by Ilkka Kokkarinen | 2:27 PM
Somebody (that shift boss you mention?) has the power to change prices, and should have done so. The USA and Canada share bedrock law on this point, inherited from Merry Old England: the price on the bill of fare (menu) controls, period. (Yes, a restaurant can put something like "grilled halibut: market price" on the menu, but then they have to tell you the price at the time you order.)
I agree you should tip the waitress less (because she tried to con you out of $2 instead of asking her manager to fix the bill).
But, reducing her tip will not induce the restaurant to do better next time, since the owner got his undeserved $2 even though the waitress went home with less.
If paying cash, you should have put down the correct amount, then walked out. (It's more difficult when paying by credit card, though in theory you should have refused to sign the slip unless it was corrected.) The restaurant might try to detain you and summon the police. But when the police arrived, you could have pointed to the menu--believe me, this comes up from time to time, and (unless the restaurant owner routinely bribes the police), you would would walk away while the restaurant manager would get a scolding from the police.
Posted by Anonymous | 1:21 PM