Tuesdays are a fun day for me, because I work from home in the morning, and then I get to go pick up $sprog from one of the two schools he goes to (we liked them both, but they're each half-day only, so we signed him up for mornings at one and afternoons at the other), get or make him some lunch, and then drop him at the other one.
On the days when I don't make him lunch, one of our favourite places to go together is United Bakers. It's the suburban reincarnation of a downtown Jewish dairy bar that has a venerable tradition going back to 1912. $sprog likes the kids' eggs-n-fries or pizza bagel meal, while my personal fave is the whitefish "scoop" with a toasted pumpernickel bagel and a barley bean soup. Service is usually harried, but decent, the clientele is loud and obnoxious, and the food is a little slice of heaven.
Note that I said "usually."
Today, we ordered our usual, and $sprog was given a seasonally-themed black and white calendar (holy heck! Chanukah is next week!) and some crayons. It was a particularly busy day, so it took a long, whining-and-sliding-under-the-table-punctuated time for the food to arrive ($sprog had to keep reminding me to stay in my seat and that the food would get there soon). Eventually the food did show up, and as often happens, after a few bites $sprog had to use the little boys' room. No problem; I took him down to the end of the seating area where the little washroom is, he did his business, and we came back—to a completely empty table.
Now, you've got to understand: this place is jam-packed with grandparents, parents and their kids on any given day. It's in a very Jewish neighbourhood, it's relatively wholesome food, it tastes fantastic, and it's convenient to a bunch of nearby schools, so it's a perfect destination for a midday treat. Point being: you'd think they'd be used to kids and their sometimes unpredictable bathroom proclivities.
But no. Apparently they thought $sprog and I had eaten half our lunch and ditched without paying, or something. To her credit, our server (not the busboy who had shown such enthusiasm and initiative in clearing our table) was tremendously apologetic, and retrieved an exact carbon copy of our order, fresh and hot, from the kitchen in about 25 seconds once we managed to flag her down and explain what had happened (causing the woman with the two restless kids under 10 at the next table to raise an eyebrow, lean over to me and say "Just goes to show ya they can get you your food that fast if they want to!"). But, the owner, who'd already come by to say hi to the kid tables (as she often does), offered an awkward apology and then scurried away.
To the folks at UB, I say: Hello? You removed my food! While I was eating it! From my table! That's gotta be worth something for the inconvenience. At least comp my kid's food, since he was sitting there being loudly hungry for a good 10 minutes before you served him the first time, and then continued to bemoan his hunger while we waited for the server the second time. Yeah, ok, you run a busy restaurant. Cry me a river. Or, failing that, at least post a sign warning your customers not to leave their food unattended for longer than 20 seconds.
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