Even if Chef Henri has indeed infused tonight’s seared Ahi appetizer with an adventurous medley of organic seasonings from the Pacific Rim and complemented it with a celestial mango reduction, don’t tell me about it—I’d prefer to read the menu while someone at another table feigns interest in your recitation of tonight’s specials. Don’t get me wrong: I love good food. What I can’t stand are out-of-work Abercrombie & Fitch models who steal respectable work from experienced wait staff because the job gives them an opportunity to practice their acting chops on hungry people. Look—I’m sorry you lost that walk-on part on “The King of Queens.” If you really are an actor, act like a waitress and bring me a fucking sandwich.
1 comment:
I always want to say "did I ask you what the fucking special was? I can read and saw it on the board during my 30 minute wait for this table next to the kitchen door.........."
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