When the Dessert Never Came
We had a marvelous Saturday as a family, tromping through a corn maze (both girls fell asleep) and getting pulled on a cow train. We petted rabbits, saw baby goats, and got nice and muddy.
We capped off the evening with a dinner out to celebrate the passing of a big test for Scott. School is over but the tests continue for residents.
It was THE strangest dinner out ever.
Just the facts:
- There is no menu.
- There are no set prices, though we knew from reviews on Yelp what we could expect to pay.
- We ate on a patio with peppers and tomatoes growing from the rafters over our heads and some recycled water guppy pond next to our table.
- We appreciated the funky ambiance and patted ourselves on the back for finding such a cool place to eat.
- We were getting a late start on dinner and were famished, so we happily devoured the salad and pasta and fish they brought out in turn.
- Because the other courses had come without warning or explanation and we had observed a table receiving dessert, we patiently awaited its arrival at our table.
- And then we waited some more. The girls were getting restless by this point. It was past bedtime for them.
- No waiter in sight. There aren’t really waiters anyway, but no employee showed a face on our patio for a Very Long Time.
- Nearby diners started to get shifty and I saw some furrowed brows and shrugged shoulders as other couples discussed their options.
- Finally, a full half hour had gone by and I marched inside the door and into the kitchen and asked someone if we were going to be served dessert or if we could get a check.
- I was told by a random dishwasher, “Oh! You are done. Just pay at the front whenever you’re ready.”
- It takes a lot to frustrate me, but as I hauled our patient children out of there and paid whatever the guy at the front decided to charge… I vowed never to return to a restaurant quite that funky again.
- Scott agreed.
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