Medium Rare, please.
Once, whilst wondering around (as one does) at 8pm, I happened across a small, rather nice looking (from the outside, at least) restaurant. The prices were attractive and I was hungry, so I went inside.

It wasn't very nice at all inside.

Bare plaster walls, cracks in the ceiling, damp and a carpet so foul a pig would have put on wellingtons.

Anyhow, onto the food. Ordered a Sirloin steak, medium rare. Attractive prices, terrible engrish on the menu.

And waited.

And noticed that almost everyone else was waiting too.

And waited.

And contemplated the meaning of those little pieces of gunk you find in the corners of your eyes when you wake up.

And waited some more.

And when the steak finally arrived, it was cold. STONE cold, like it had just been whipped out of the fridge. Below room temperature.

It was also not medium rare, but well done.

Now, the thing that troubles me is that if it had been cooked, why the FUCK it had been put in the fridge before serving it to me?

I suspected it had been a leftover and had been taken out of the fridge but NOT re-heated.

And it had taken two hours to get to me.

I was not pleased. I berated the waiter in my limited cantonese. He actually retorted, telling me that he didn't have to listen to me
and that I was being unreasonable.

At this point, I lost my temper. I had just waited 2 hours for a steak that was cold when it got to me, not cooked as I asked and now the waiter was being derelict in his duties as a waiter.

I told him as much, in a very loud voice and spending particular attention to the fact that he was giving me backchat and as a waiter part of his job was to deal with complaints and he had better deal with this one and sharpish too.

I decided then that I wouldn't be getting the last two hours of my life back, calmly picked up my plate and handed it to the waiter, and walked out.

Half of the patronage, most still without sustenance, followed me.

Best part? The lady who had sitting next to me worked for one of the local newspapers as a restaurant reviewer.

Two weeks later, passing the same spot, where the restaurant had once stood was a shoe shop.

Been responsible for the downfall of a restaurant? Been there, done that.
(DarkLite swallowed my entire undercarriage, Sun 30 Apr 2006, 12:57, Reply)