Wednesday, 14 August 2013

A Rant

I’ve waited several weeks before I could put finger to keyboard and rant about an experience we had at Mishkins.
I feared that before now I would have just gone off on one and ended up really bitching and being hateful, which I’m not but it was a shit experience.
I’m not going to go too much into detail as I can feel my blood boiling just thinking about the experience, but it has certainly put me off eating at one of Russell Norman’s restaurants again if he is employing bitches like that.
We’ve eaten at Mishkin’s before and yes the food is good for what it is, a take on the New York Jewish Deli tamed for the London dining scene, but the service was pretty bad to say the least, lazy, couldn’t be bothered, grumpy and they wondered why I never left a tip.
So when the missus mentioned going back there on this fateful night last month, I really wasn’t that thrilled. As I work in a service industry as well, bad service means no sale and no sale means no commission and no commission means I live in the poor house for a month.
Bad service is something that irritates me so much, I tend not to write about it when it happens, mainly as put it down to the low feeling people have on being a waiter. It’s not just a job to earn in between other jobs, it is a bloody proper job and so few people do it well, but on this occasion I feel I must let off some steam, and yes you Mishkin’s have the bad luck of being top of the list.
So this fateful Friday, we turned up and was told by the girl in charge, no idea if she was the manager or just the oldest person there and basically was running the show, albeit badly.
We were told a table would be ready in say 10 minutes as they were waiting for some people to arrive, who hadn’t as of yet.
Now it was a Friday night and we had just come from work, so we had not gone home to change, but as we both work in offices with a smart but casual look, so we were not glammed up like quite a few people and we are not in our 20’s no more and by no means the oldest people in the place.
The minutes went by, people came in and left, people sat a the bar and waited, no one seemed to be getting served with food or drinks, the blonde girl seemed to be rushing between tables chatting and laughing with her friends who were sat at several tables.
More minutes went by and not a single drink or plate of food that I saw being delivered but the vibe was lively and people seem to be having fun.
By this time I was getting pretty bored waiting for someone to let us know when we could have our table, so we finally mange to drag the blonde away from her friends and in an unbelievable brazen arrogance that almost got a slap, she put her hands on the wife’s shoulders and said “look it’s chaos here, and there are no tables for you here, best go somewhere else”.
I’m really surprised she never got a bitch slap for that, in an amazing amount of self control the wife simply shrugged off the blonde’s hands, gave her a look that even Medusa would have been proud of and walked out. Fuming, really fuming.
Unbelievable, what my money is not good enough for you is it, you only want twenty something tattooed up rich playthings gracing your establishments, well Mr Norman if that is the case then you will never see the inside of my wallet again.

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1 comment:

Mr Noodles said...

The irony of it all is in New York this piss poor service would have been deemed totally unacceptable. Londoners have this image from the movies of the miked-up FOH Nazi in NY, when in reality they are usually fine and very helpful. That said, maybe my British accent gives me a pass or I didn't go to trendy enough places in NY!