You know when you have one of those brilliant, albeit, last minute ideas? One of the ones where you think, this could be brilliant, if I pull this off, then this will be the best birthday surprise- ever!
Well, the night before last, these thoughts flitted through my mind, racing and raging, until, inevitably, I baked the mother of all birthday cakes- a four layer chocolate fudge, mocha gateau covered in rich, chocolate butter icing.
The reasoning behind this was, after missing my friend's birthday last weekend, I suggested we do something this week to celebrate. And seeing as it was another friends birthday this week, I thought; why not make an occasion of it? So we booked a table at a restaurant that HAD been one of favourites for some time (Esteban on Lark Lane in case you were wondering).
I confirmed the final numbers on my way home from work yesterday, and I also informed them that I would be dropping in a birthday cake to be brought out at after the meal. This all seemed fine, and after putting the finishing touches to the masterpiece, my dutiful fiance dropped it off for me.
Things were all going to plan as all eight of us congregated in the restaurant. We couldn't help but notice a particularly loud party of women seated nearby, who made it their business to make me shudder with their various screeches and howls of laughter. We ordered our wine and our tapas and were all set for a good night...
The conversation flowed as we caught up with one another, the restaurant quickly filling up with various other large parties. Our food arrived promptly, and the waitress shouted out the various dishes, and we passed them down the table. Then came along THE waiter, a blundering buffoon, that seemed to be cursed not only with bad manners and impatience, but other unsavoury characteristics which came to light about ten minutes later.
He approached our table with the remaining dishes on the tray, and seemingly flung the food at us, without even naming the various cuisines- we were all left a bit stunned, but we passed the food around, guessing and swapping the items which had been dumped willy nilly across the table.
After tucking in, the lights in the restaurant dimmed as THE waiter approached the cackling women opposite with a birthday cake. They all burst into song, and I looked up in horror to see MY cake being served to the other party. You can imagine the look of disbelief on my face as I sprung up from my seat to try and salvage my little labour of love.
As I screamed 'That's my cake, that's my cake!' THE waiter replied smugly 'Are you serious?', at that point I felt the bile rise in the back of my throat... He blew the candles out and removed the cake from the table as the odious women on the table fell into fits of hilarity at my expense.
I'd never been so embarrassed in my whole life. My intricate plans had been foiled by one incompetent member of staff's idiotic blunders, and all I could do was cry.
Diners looked on in disbelief as the tears rolled down my face, and the manager apologised in a most sterile manner, not even addressing me (the person who had booked the table, baked the cake etc) saying that he would waive the service charge and give us some free drinks- not much of a consolation for ruining my BIG surprise....
The anger began to subside after my friends reassured me that it was a lovely gesture, and the attentive waitresses checked I was ok, THE waiter offered an unconvincing sympathetic look which I ignored, and we continued to eat in a most uncomfortable atmosphere.
I thought that was the worst point of the night over, but then another waiter began to clear away our plates when half the table were still eating, he even tried to take some of our wine glasses too! We quickly stopped him, advising him to look down the table at all the uneaten food...
My friend Elaine, bravely ventured to the bar and asked about some free drinks which the manager had promised us, and came back with some good news, three bottles, on the house- it was the least they could do!
After the table was cleared, I asked for the cake, not a problem I thought... Then not one, but two waitresses came over, one after the other, the first asking if I wanted candles (well yes, it was a birthday cake, and I'd given them eight candles to put in it!) the second, to tell me it would be a few minutes.... at that point I'd gone beyond caring, and felt like asking 'Is it still in the oven?! Or has someone else eaten it?'
Then the cake came out of the kitchen with THE waiter clumsily trying to hide it behind a menu, and as we broke out in song, the whole restaurant joined in and cheered at the end. It certainly livened us up, and as we tucked into the cake, we all agreed, it was worth the wait! We asked for the bill, and were ready to scrutinise it and saw that out of the six bottles of wine, we'd only had the three for free, the service charge had been knocked off too- but with the terrible service, I'd have walked out without paying, had there been a dispute.
One of the waitresses grabbed the cake and disappeared with it as we threw our money into the kitty. My heart was thumping, what was she doing with my cake? Would I ever see it, or my lovely glass plate again? I waited with baited breath, only to be told she was wrapping it up for me to take home, thank goodness.
All my friends assured me that they'd had a great night, but I still feel like I was robbed. My two friends Joe and Sasa, had never had anyone surprise them like that before, and Esteban took that away from them. No amount of compensation can get that back, and I never want to return to that amateurish place again- I was so, so angry last night, I couldn't even taste the food properly!
So my re-issued advice, don't book it! Steer clear! Leave your cake at home and eat it there, so if anything goes wrong, you'll only have yourself to blame.
Well, the night before last, these thoughts flitted through my mind, racing and raging, until, inevitably, I baked the mother of all birthday cakes- a four layer chocolate fudge, mocha gateau covered in rich, chocolate butter icing.
The reasoning behind this was, after missing my friend's birthday last weekend, I suggested we do something this week to celebrate. And seeing as it was another friends birthday this week, I thought; why not make an occasion of it? So we booked a table at a restaurant that HAD been one of favourites for some time (Esteban on Lark Lane in case you were wondering).
I confirmed the final numbers on my way home from work yesterday, and I also informed them that I would be dropping in a birthday cake to be brought out at after the meal. This all seemed fine, and after putting the finishing touches to the masterpiece, my dutiful fiance dropped it off for me.
Things were all going to plan as all eight of us congregated in the restaurant. We couldn't help but notice a particularly loud party of women seated nearby, who made it their business to make me shudder with their various screeches and howls of laughter. We ordered our wine and our tapas and were all set for a good night...
The conversation flowed as we caught up with one another, the restaurant quickly filling up with various other large parties. Our food arrived promptly, and the waitress shouted out the various dishes, and we passed them down the table. Then came along THE waiter, a blundering buffoon, that seemed to be cursed not only with bad manners and impatience, but other unsavoury characteristics which came to light about ten minutes later.
He approached our table with the remaining dishes on the tray, and seemingly flung the food at us, without even naming the various cuisines- we were all left a bit stunned, but we passed the food around, guessing and swapping the items which had been dumped willy nilly across the table.
After tucking in, the lights in the restaurant dimmed as THE waiter approached the cackling women opposite with a birthday cake. They all burst into song, and I looked up in horror to see MY cake being served to the other party. You can imagine the look of disbelief on my face as I sprung up from my seat to try and salvage my little labour of love.
As I screamed 'That's my cake, that's my cake!' THE waiter replied smugly 'Are you serious?', at that point I felt the bile rise in the back of my throat... He blew the candles out and removed the cake from the table as the odious women on the table fell into fits of hilarity at my expense.
I'd never been so embarrassed in my whole life. My intricate plans had been foiled by one incompetent member of staff's idiotic blunders, and all I could do was cry.
Diners looked on in disbelief as the tears rolled down my face, and the manager apologised in a most sterile manner, not even addressing me (the person who had booked the table, baked the cake etc) saying that he would waive the service charge and give us some free drinks- not much of a consolation for ruining my BIG surprise....
The anger began to subside after my friends reassured me that it was a lovely gesture, and the attentive waitresses checked I was ok, THE waiter offered an unconvincing sympathetic look which I ignored, and we continued to eat in a most uncomfortable atmosphere.
I thought that was the worst point of the night over, but then another waiter began to clear away our plates when half the table were still eating, he even tried to take some of our wine glasses too! We quickly stopped him, advising him to look down the table at all the uneaten food...
My friend Elaine, bravely ventured to the bar and asked about some free drinks which the manager had promised us, and came back with some good news, three bottles, on the house- it was the least they could do!
After the table was cleared, I asked for the cake, not a problem I thought... Then not one, but two waitresses came over, one after the other, the first asking if I wanted candles (well yes, it was a birthday cake, and I'd given them eight candles to put in it!) the second, to tell me it would be a few minutes.... at that point I'd gone beyond caring, and felt like asking 'Is it still in the oven?! Or has someone else eaten it?'
Then the cake came out of the kitchen with THE waiter clumsily trying to hide it behind a menu, and as we broke out in song, the whole restaurant joined in and cheered at the end. It certainly livened us up, and as we tucked into the cake, we all agreed, it was worth the wait! We asked for the bill, and were ready to scrutinise it and saw that out of the six bottles of wine, we'd only had the three for free, the service charge had been knocked off too- but with the terrible service, I'd have walked out without paying, had there been a dispute.
One of the waitresses grabbed the cake and disappeared with it as we threw our money into the kitty. My heart was thumping, what was she doing with my cake? Would I ever see it, or my lovely glass plate again? I waited with baited breath, only to be told she was wrapping it up for me to take home, thank goodness.
All my friends assured me that they'd had a great night, but I still feel like I was robbed. My two friends Joe and Sasa, had never had anyone surprise them like that before, and Esteban took that away from them. No amount of compensation can get that back, and I never want to return to that amateurish place again- I was so, so angry last night, I couldn't even taste the food properly!
So my re-issued advice, don't book it! Steer clear! Leave your cake at home and eat it there, so if anything goes wrong, you'll only have yourself to blame.
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