So, as The Improper Bostonian's lesbian bachelorette, I was invited to some sort of shin-dig a few weeks ago. Yes, I was on the list with a plus-one. My plus-one being the lovely Mrs. S. We met up at Union for a quick libation and a shared taxi to the Hotel Commonwealth's Foundation Lounge for a meet and greet with the cities most eligible single folk as decreed by some sort of Improper fiat.
At the door, there was the standard andyouaregreatwelcomeenjoyyourself followed by the obligatory coat-check girl stuck in a small room with a ton of coats and a far too empty tip jar. Some guy with an iBook was "spinning" all of the songs that made me happy when the 80's ended on what I can only imagine was either an occasional dance floor or the premier seating area of the place.
It was loud, dimly lit and filled with tons of people looking to get met. Mrs. S. and I saw a corner near the kitchen where we felt that we could safely watch the goings on without being involved in any way. The bar was right next to the wall we wanted to occupy, so what could be better?
After asking my "date" what she wanted, I went to the bar to fill the orders. This party was hosted by Woodford Reserve as well as some Sparkling wine house, so I figured that there would be a certain amount of free beverages being offered to the guests. After all, it was a private event. No. I actually had to pay for a drink that I know was provided for free by the distributor in exchange for being the featured beverage. Strike one. In this industry, a certain amount of profiteering is expected. However, when a restaurant actually has the hubris to ask for payment for free product, I just start to get an ill feeling regarding the ownership's desire to stay afloat at the expense of customer goodwill.
There was supposed to be free bites of things passed around, and there were. But, for the entire time we were there, about an hour or a little bit more, I only saw about six or seven plates of aprox. 5-10 items per plate leave the kitchen. Since I was standing right there, i'm pretty sure I saw the entirety of the offerings from the host to the guests. People were actually buying food because there wasn't enough getting passed around. Strike two. Obviously, the owner isn't in this to create new customers.
I am a relatively casual person, I like to wear boots and jeans, tees and the like. I hook my thumbs in my pockets, lean against walls and prop a foot up on occasion. It's just how I am. And, that's what I was doing. I was leaning against the wall, watching the show. It really was more a heterosexual meat market, and therefore only good for me in terms of social anthropology. An "Oh, so this is how they live" sort of thing. On the wall next to my head was some strange stain that might have been from someone being thrown against the wall or perhaps a steak that wasn't prepared well had found it's motion halted by this immovable object.
As I was leaning there, talking to Mrs. S. and remarking on the fact that I hated the music the first time it was around, some guy walks up to me and asks me to put my hoof back on the floor. I do it, while looking pointedly at the stain next to my head. He doesn't notice that, I guess, but no problem. That really should have been the end of it. However, for some reason, this man thinks that it's a good idea
to say to me that he was told only horses and cows put their feet up on things. First of all, before I even get into how rude that is, neither horses or cows actually do this. I am a Southern girl, I have family who either has or does farm. No, they don't. I can't believe what i'm hearing and the look on my face must have been priceless, as Mrs. S. stated that she thought I was going to clobber the guy. To be honest, I thought that I was going to clobber the guy. I've never in my life had someone say something that completely thoughtless to me before. He realizes, a little too late, that he has really committed an unpardonable verbal sin. He stops talking, looks around, finds a bottle of wine on the bar and pours some into this other guy's glass. Strike three. I'm out of there.
I wanted to know who this guy was before I left. Ends up, he's the owner. He and his former wife (good for you, getting out, honey. This guy's lacking some serious interpersonal skills) ran some other place in the city before she got smart and dumped him. Yes, I could do all my homework and give all of you the skinny on that, but aside from providing me with some fodder for this particular diatribe, i've absolutely no interest in it. I asked for his card, ended up getting a reserved placard provided free of charge from the good folks at American Express. (They'll give a restaurant anything to get their brand and logo free exposure) The empty business card box came from VistaPrint (and I know this because the business card on the box had the logo on it). When I first moved up here and was trying to get my photography off the ground, I actually had a bunch printed up. I still have them, but I ponied up the extra few dollars to not have the logo tacked onto the cards.
Not that I have any interest in watching your place succeed. The fact that you still have people going there only speaks to the dearth of really good places in this city for people, even straight ones, to go to. I just want to put out there some ideas that might make it more palatable for the people who are willing to suffer the lack of parking, the high drink prices, bad lighting and management just to go to this dive bar dressed up like a fine-dining establishment. STOP DOING THIS SHIT! Just be nice, play fair and stop taking advantage of the people who go there.
And apologize to me for that asinine comment.
