Who has ever been overwhelmed by a bad service in an establishment gastronomy whether it is a tavern, a beach or urban beach bar, a bar, multi-awarded with Michelin stars and Repsol soles, in your city, Paris or NY? I recently. On the occasion of SSIFF, the international film festival, this week, I booked a table for three in a well-known bar several days in advance, with history and pinchos of caprice and temptation. I ordered last minute, ten o’clock at night, Monday. I arrived on time but my friends around eleven o’clock, overwhelmed after an ordeal to find transportation from the place where Sabina’s movie, Sorry for a lot, was shown, which caused a sensation.
At a quarter past ten, at the end of the documentary, I informed the waiter that my friends would be late, made a very bad face and brought the letter. Grumbling, he asked if they would come hungry and I said, sweating, that possibly… He immediately put together the order: four skewers, whatever there was, more meat, fish and two desserts, he said. And it was all for like six, as was the check.
The worst was when they arrived, rudely placed everything on the table and he paced continually to hasten us. I was aware of the scene, thank goodness, my friends were so grateful and hungry that they ignored what was happening, as well as the overcooked fish and meat and the several-hour-old skewers. Before twelve we left, there were still other tables. I did not leave a tip because of the bad time and the lack of kindness and empathy. I won’t be back, now I understand why they have a reputation for treating people poorly. I understand that they may have hard hours, that they are exhausted, but the city is partying, there are cinemas everywhere and tourists who seek tasty, pleasant experiences in the capital of pinchos, grills and first-class products. They were able to propose cold, light options, without complications, in short.
Another traumatic situation was in a classic place in San Sebastian, a celebration with applauded dishes. With the pandemic, like many, it began to offer pinchos, even to take away. It has an interesting selection. The bad manners began the minute I made the reservation for a Monday at eight at night and I said “to eat pinchos”, “ah, so in the dining room, right?”, said my interlocutor. I reiterated “skewers”, she muttered something and without saying goodbye, she hung up. I was cold.
The day of the appointment I arrived five minutes late, I understand punctuality, but also flexibility, and the manager said that since it was for pinchos, he had lost the reservation. I smiled and dignifiedly ordered something to drink. It was my friend’s birthday and everything was packed. Coincidentally, a few minutes later a table became available and we were able to sit down. They sullenly said we had to order at the counter. I went and curtly they returned me to the table to wait. When the order arrived, they placed the crockery noisily and anxiously, breaking the harmony. Luckily they scored fewer spikes, too, and in half an hour we were out. At the exit, about ten people waited and were treated despotically, while those who arrived at the dining room smiled. It seemed pathetic to me.
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I don’t know what happens in some places where poor service is a sign of identity, but people remain faithful and that is disturbing. I know of another case of embarrassment. A chef with haughty and arrogant treatment to those who question him. Wake up love, hate. It is said that he cooks like angels, but, I reflect, if he is capable of expressing beauty on the plate, why not in the way of being.
#treat #badly