So here’s the thing. A while ago I had a big birthday bash at a fancy restaurant, one which I had been to and thoroughly enjoyed a few years earlier. The first problem was jeans. I thought I should check to see whether I could wear jeans along with a white shirt and dark blue jacket. After, all this is England, not laid back Australia.. “No” came the response. Fair enough I thought, so I dressed up like Mr Toad.
Arrival was fine, although I am always somewhat suspicious of a hotel/restaurant with electric gates.
Inside my suspicions were confirmed. Gone was the smokey and rather eccentric entrance hall and in its place was what can only be described as a Travel Lodge Luxe aesthetic.
No matter.
So we went into the bar, looked at the women wearing jeans (!) and then devoured the menu (too much dead stuff, nothing I really wanted). Then the wine list.
“Have you got anything really old?” I asked.
“Oh no sir, all our wine is new”
At this point I knew we were in serious trouble.
I was right.
In the main room, the waiters were all wearing white gloves. Oh please. Most of them also spoke like the art gallery assistant in Beverly Hills Cop.
“We avvv sisss, or you can avvve theeese” “Vitch voood you prefffer siiiiir”
But that was just for starters. The best was yet to come.
The main courses didn’t arrive on plates. It arrived on flat bits of black slate (i.e. floor tiles). Maybe they’d had a run on plates? As a result the sauce went all over the table. “Set me cleeenzzzz sis up for yooou siiiiir.”
The cheese was good and Michael, the man behind the cheese, was a laugh in the nicest possible sense. Diamond geezer. All in all though, pretentious nonsense with everything drenched in buttock clenching service.
And £600 for five people. Ouch!
So what to do?
If this (“siiisss”) has been a great meal I would have thought to myself, that this was a great meal. I wouldn’t have blogged or gone anywhere near Trip Advisor. But it was bad. Really bad (did I mention that my dad got food poisoning from a prawn that had tried unsuccessfully to walk overland back to Asia but was caught somewhere in Eastern Europe?).
So, yes, I went straight on to trip Advisor and said pretty much what I’ve told you here. Now what’s interesting to me here is two things. First, I wouldn’t have posted comments if the experience was a good one. So does this mean that sites like these are naturally biased towards poor experiences and negative feelings?
Two (“tahwoo”), I wouldn’t have posted a comment in my own name. Anonymity created a feeling of cyber courage that warps relations between people.
Fortunately, when I was posting my comments it was very late at night and I managed to use an incorrect email address, so none of this actually made it onto the site.
“Di yow avve an exccccccelent naught siiiiir?”
“Yeeeseeeessss. It vaz veeeeeery enjoyabbbbbbbble except fooor sa fowd powsioingggg?”.