So last night started as the rare occasion that my other half and I actually put in the effort to dress ourselves in threads that were not totally covered in cat fur and to go out to dinner at a relatively nice restaurant posing as civilized human beings. We were both craving sushi and Masu is a newish, niceish joint not far from home. Perfect.
After a full Saturday of experiments and thesis writing (yes, we know, we are very cool) and the aforementioned preparations we didn’t make it out until about 8:30. When we showed up at Masu the wait was only about 30 min so we grabbed a spot by the panchenko machines and ordered a flight of sake to share. Very nice. We had a spot at the bar by 9 pm as things were starting to clear out and all seemed to be going smoothly.
As we were deciding what to get, a second couple sat down next to us at the bar and also began browsing the drinks and food menus. I’m not sure if it was because we already had 3 glasses of sake in front of us or because we both could’ve really used a booster seat to properly belly-up-to-the-bar but this was the beginning of the end.
We decided what we wanted to get (agadashi tofu–of course, a crunchy spicy salmon roll and a firecracker roll) and closed our menus. Our neighbors ordered their drinks…and received their drinks. Our neighbors then ordered their food. At this point we flagged down our bar tender while he was out on the floor (?) and asked if we could order. He said he supposed that we could and hurriedly took down our order. Weird, but whatever, at least it was in.
So we sat back, hungry but happy enough with our sake and Michigan vs. Syracuse final four game, and chit-chat while we waited for our food…and waited…and watched our neighbors appetizers come…and go…and waited…and watched our neighbors food come…and go…and waited. Finally, we asked one of the other bar tenders what was going on with our order. (The one we ordered from was far too busy to see our attempts to flag him down.) She told us that it was busy so we needed to be patient.
Ok so yes, it had been busy. Fair enough. But now? No. It was not.
So we continued to wait. Our neighbors got their bill…and paid. More waiting. The bar tenders switched out all of the regular menus for the late night version. More waiting…and more being told to be patient. By 10 pm I had gone from hungry to hangry and was no longer in the mood to hear that I needed to be patient. Michigan was having their way with Syracuse and our sake was gone. By 10:15 we were ready to exchange our civilized attire for fur covered sweats and our bar stools for the couch. By 10:16 our coats were on and we were out the door! I can’t say that I have ever just gotten up and walked out of a restaurant before, but I also can’t recall being treated like I’m so totally disposable, if not even a burden.
So now what? This is what —
One Southwest Beans pizza by Pizza Mesa for pick up, our fur covered pajamas, the couch, 3 episodes of Homeland and our girls…
Why didn’t we leave sooner?
Have you up and walked out of a restaurant for crappy service or food? What happened?