When I get what I want, I never want it again
![[the fortune]](http://www.tampatantrum.com/ispy/fortune.jpg)
Last night we met Stacy and Dan for a lovely dinner at the new P.F. Chang's China Bistro in Tampa. It was a first-time thing for all of us. We've heard you left-coasters rave about them forever, but they're just making their way over here to the Sunshine State.
So as I set the mood...imagine new rave-restaurant, Friday night, in the big city... [Sidebar: Dan and Stacy got there a few minutes before we did because we were stuck with the slowest clerk ever to run a cash register at Burdine's. She actually asked us, "Are you in a hurry to make your purchase this evening?" "Ummmm...no lady. We just put it on the counter for you to stress over. We can come back next week if that would be more convenient for you."] Anyhoo, they registered a table for four and were asked, "Indoors? Outdoors? Or first available?" Not realizing a monsoon was on its way, they chose "first available" -- and even that option that had an hour-wait attached. Shortly thereafter we walked inside, we all found a seat, and began to catch-up and chit-chat -- soon immersing ourselves in geeky conversation such as Battlestar Galactica and Buck Rogers in the 25th Century.
That's when the vibrator, errrr, I mean pager went off. So the four of us made our way up to the podium wishing and hoping and praying we weren't being given an outdoor table because the visibility outside was about 2" by this time. There were people at the outside tables already, but I'm sure they won't need to shower for at least a week. So the check-in girl grabs a 2-foot pile of menus to hand to the hostess, who whispers something to her. Then the hostess walks off -- without the menus and without us. Then she comes back. Then another comes up. By this time, we're wondering what in the hell is up. Soon they inform us that another couple just walked in and sat down at our table. Without a reservation. Without a hostess seating them. They just waltzed in the restaurant on a Friday night and expected service.
But that wasn't the kicker. They didn't mistake the place for a seat-yourself kinda venue. Oh no. They refused to leave our table when asked. Flat-out refused. So then the staff was left arguing about what to do and who to do it. And still we stand there at the podium. Finally someone, somehow must have convinced them to get up because they were quickly ushered right by us. (Oh how Stacy and I wanted a piece of 'em!) Imagine if you will the quintessential Bon Jovi Joi-sey girl. (Not that there's anything wrong with that...) Hair up to there, dress down to there. And as they breezed past the podium (where the poor girl in tow was trying to get them to register for a table), the man actually had the audacity to open up the patio doors and say, "Can you seat us here now?" As the poor hostess stammered all over herself, she was quickly rescued by the woman who claimed there was no way she was going outside in the rain and humidity because -- horror of horrors -- her hair would go flat. And we were off to our table to miss the rest of the free show...
Can you believe the nerve to just waltz in some place on a Friday night like that and seat yourself? Fortunately one bite of the Peking Dumplings and my mind went numb, never to ponder it again that evening!
posted at 12:03 PM | link-
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Last night we met Stacy and Dan for a lovely dinner at the new P.F. Chang's China Bistro in Tampa. It was a first-time thing for all of us. We've heard you left-coasters rave about them forever, but they're just making their way over here to the Sunshine State.
So as I set the mood...imagine new rave-restaurant, Friday night, in the big city... [Sidebar: Dan and Stacy got there a few minutes before we did because we were stuck with the slowest clerk ever to run a cash register at Burdine's. She actually asked us, "Are you in a hurry to make your purchase this evening?" "Ummmm...no lady. We just put it on the counter for you to stress over. We can come back next week if that would be more convenient for you."] Anyhoo, they registered a table for four and were asked, "Indoors? Outdoors? Or first available?" Not realizing a monsoon was on its way, they chose "first available" -- and even that option that had an hour-wait attached. Shortly thereafter we walked inside, we all found a seat, and began to catch-up and chit-chat -- soon immersing ourselves in geeky conversation such as Battlestar Galactica and Buck Rogers in the 25th Century.
That's when the vibrator, errrr, I mean pager went off. So the four of us made our way up to the podium wishing and hoping and praying we weren't being given an outdoor table because the visibility outside was about 2" by this time. There were people at the outside tables already, but I'm sure they won't need to shower for at least a week. So the check-in girl grabs a 2-foot pile of menus to hand to the hostess, who whispers something to her. Then the hostess walks off -- without the menus and without us. Then she comes back. Then another comes up. By this time, we're wondering what in the hell is up. Soon they inform us that another couple just walked in and sat down at our table. Without a reservation. Without a hostess seating them. They just waltzed in the restaurant on a Friday night and expected service.
But that wasn't the kicker. They didn't mistake the place for a seat-yourself kinda venue. Oh no. They refused to leave our table when asked. Flat-out refused. So then the staff was left arguing about what to do and who to do it. And still we stand there at the podium. Finally someone, somehow must have convinced them to get up because they were quickly ushered right by us. (Oh how Stacy and I wanted a piece of 'em!) Imagine if you will the quintessential Bon Jovi Joi-sey girl. (Not that there's anything wrong with that...) Hair up to there, dress down to there. And as they breezed past the podium (where the poor girl in tow was trying to get them to register for a table), the man actually had the audacity to open up the patio doors and say, "Can you seat us here now?" As the poor hostess stammered all over herself, she was quickly rescued by the woman who claimed there was no way she was going outside in the rain and humidity because -- horror of horrors -- her hair would go flat. And we were off to our table to miss the rest of the free show...
Can you believe the nerve to just waltz in some place on a Friday night like that and seat yourself? Fortunately one bite of the Peking Dumplings and my mind went numb, never to ponder it again that evening!
posted at 12:03 PM | link-
-it | mail it
| (29) shout it