I woke up two days ago to find that the Christmas pepperpot was on “its last”, as my sister would say, and realized that the season just came and went. No fuss.
I could hear my neighbour screaming for her carefree daughter as I reached for the pepperpot, and I willed myself not to look outside. New year, same old story; that girl was either on the road talking to those boys who are still unemployed or at the home of the boy three doors away.
The feel of my home during the holidays is a different one; everything is somehow more appealing and I appreciate that my mother is a big spender. She loves changing the curtains; the carpet; the flowers hanging overhead in the living room; the fairy lights… I could go on. Trouble is, this year she politely asked me to “keep her afloat”. I’ll politely not disclose what that meant in terms of dollars.
I like that the horror stories which always grace my holidays were minimal this year and believe it or not, it had nothing to do with my family. The stories I could tell about my household around the holidays are priceless, but this year I ended up running into bad luck at a few fancy eating spots in the town.
It all started on December 24 last when my girlfriends and I turned up at a certain ‘edgy’ location in town for our traditional pre-Christmas lunch. The old adage, ‘looks are deceiving’ rings true as I recall the events of that day because we walked in expecting a great lunch based on the appearance of the place. Within two minutes of being there they were out of Banks Shandy.
I kept thinking which popular spot on Christmas Eve is going to be out of stocks at midday knowing that people eat out like crazy during the holidays, particularly on December 24? I settled for a Banks Malta and thankfully they had. However, my friends who opted for the fruit punch found out later that they only had enough for two glasses. The third fruit punch order was so watered down we all reasonably suspected they scraped the bottom of the fruit bowl to produce it.
“We’re out of fruit punch,” the waiter said bluntly when a fourth order was made. He didn’t even explain why the third glass was missing the slice of pineapple and the cute little umbrella. I concluded that the slice of pineapple took a serious punch and was in the contents of the glass; I couldn’t bring myself to think what happened with the umbrella.
We waited for nearly 30 minutes before the first few food orders came in, but when he brought the utensils and napkins every last one of them had hair. One of the hairs in a napkin looked artificial, but artificial or real I was livid! The wait for the steak orders was unbearable, and as the servings were gracing the table I realized that every new portion was smaller.
Believe it or not they were not only out of fruit punch and shandy; they were likely out of rice! I was so turned off and I regretted going there. It was an awful start to my Christmas, but my friends were there and that made it sufferable.
And as if that were not enough I visited another ‘upscale’ spot in the city and left terribly disappointed. The place was crowed and there were two visible waiters on the floor! The guy working my table was so frustrated that he kept mouthing words under his breath whenever he came over. I waited 45 minutes for a Banks shandy that never came.
I finally settled on water and when I asked him for a glass the guy stared me down for two minutes and said, “We’re out”. I was forced to head count and there were 80 persons there, and not everyone had a glass in hand or on a table. The waiter sensed my shock and quickly returned to say, “We’re washing a few and waiting to see who else is done with a glass”. I almost fell out of my chair!
My resolution? Next Christmas I am patronizing the small, lesser-known spots in the city. I am done with all these edgy, upscale places!
thescene@stabroeknews.com)
