The Tip is in the Water

So, this week was an exciting week for me, relatively speaking. I was graced by the presence of my lovely past and future roommate Coleen* for a couple of days, and we enjoyed thrifting and hanging out with various peeps from A---, where I live.

However, this evening was not so wonderful. Coleen, my friend Marissa, and I decided to go out to dinner at this cute little place we had seen downtown earlier that morning. It was an Italian ristorante called O---. We hopped out of the car, and the restaurant appeared completely empty, despite it being seven o'clock on a Thursday evening, and we hesitatingly decided to go inside anyway. *Cue chilling orchestral music.*

We were indeed the only people in the place, aside from the servers and the cooks in the back. The decor was very pretty, and looking at the menu, it seemed like what I would have expected to find at any typical restaurant from when I studied in Italy. Foolish children that we were, we were heartened by the interior and menu. Our vaguely creepy waiter offered us a tempting array of waters, and I was suckered into ordering some of the sparkling variety.

While that was in the works, Coleen and I excitedly discussed menu options, while poor Marissa seemed a tad lost amongst the Italinate language of the food descriptions. Then we realized that the vaguely creepy waiter was someone from Marissa's past--the very SAME creeper waiter who had hit on her dining buddy for a solid 20 minutes at a DIFFERENT restaurant, ignoring all other customers including Marissa herself. Well, if the complete emptiness hadn't made us suspicious, this character's shady past sure did.

I suppose I should identify what made this particular server creepier than other servers at ordinary restaurants. He is one of a disturbing trend of overly attentive (in a bad way) waiters who insist on doing things like putting the left-overs in a doggy bag for us, or kneeling down to take our orders, or making awkward small talk, or leaning over the table for any reason whatsoever. Now, lest you naysayers cry "nay" upon me, I have several friends who have at one time or another worked in the food service industry. I have a great respect for the immense load of crap that servers have to put up with on an ordinary basis. So when I complain about a server, it is not without great cause. Also, I always tip 20% percent unless there is a very good reason not to. So don't even start complaining, O Faithful Readers mine.

Anyways, back to the story. Coleen made awkward small talk--admittedly initiated by her--and she and I ordered appetizers. They came shortly thereafter, once the waiter had reached over me to pour my personal-sized water. Well, two appetizers arrived. One was the caprese salad we had ordered, complete with a hair on the plate. Yum! The second was a house salad that I don't even think was on the menu. That was sent back and our tomato tart was brought out. It consisted of a stewed, peeled, testicle-like tomato on top of goat cheese and a tart thing. You can't really mess up caprese salad, since its just tomato, mozzarella, and basil, so hairs aside it wasn't too bad. The tomato tart thing was just too weird to be enjoyed. Maybe someone with a more "sophisticated palate" than I would have appreciated it. Unbeknownst to Coleen and I, Marissa doesn't like tomatoes, so she did not partake. (Sorry, Marissa.)

Then we ordered dinner, hoping it would improve. Marissa and I decided to split a cannelloni with Italian sausage and ricotta. Coleen got shrimp and spaghetti. Unfortunately, I had forgotten how spicy Italian sausage is, and Marissa doesn't like spicy food. She was all set to switch with Coleen, except that she doesn't like shrimp. (Marissa is NOT a picky eater; this was just an unfortunate combination of ingredients.) So my poor friend, on top of being embarrassed about our encounters with the waiter, only ate noodles for dinner. : (

The actual dinner food wasn't too bad, but definitely NOT worth the $17 per portion. I mean, noodles, red sauce, ricotta, and sausage do not $17 make. And that's not including appetizers. And then we got the bill.

My sparkling water, which I had so enjoyed, which had been creepily poured for me not once, but TWICE by a leaning waiter, was FOUR dollars. For a 16 ounce bottle of WATER. What the FRICK.

Well, that was the final straw for me. For a dinner that was unenjoyable at best, my overpriced beverage was just too much for my poor student self to handle. Unfortunately, law required us to pay the bill. We slapped down some cold, hard, anonymous cash on the table. There was no tip, however. I really, REALLY wanted to write "The tip is in the water" on the check, but my BFFs wanted to bolt.

...

Then we got ice cream. The kind with chocolate and peanut butter. And all was well.


*All names have been changed to protect the anonymity of my BFFs. And also the crappy restaurant where we ate. (I just typed "where we hate". Freudian slip? I think so.) Because I'm decent like that.