- upscale place, Saturday night.
- The table was wobbly. After a few minutes, I actually used my foot to stuff my drink napkin under the leg.
- They had a decent sound system that was playing a nice mix of music, but then they played 'message in a bottle' by the Police and this young, fat Jonah Hill hipster faggot sitting next to me decided it would be funny to sing out really loud the "... sending out an sos... sending out an sos" part over and over again.
- I almost never send food or drinks back, but the beer I ordered was completely flat - almost like water.
- The place was busy so they used a food runner instead of our server handing us our food. This young chick, clearly in over her head, is all stressed out, in a hurry. Slams the food down, doesn't take away existing plates, she doesn't ask which plate goes to which person, etc. Food was okay, nothing great, nothing to write home about.
- Young Jonah Hill fat hipster faggots leave and they clean push two tables together to seat the next group. This time it was 7 people where they have one person seated on the end, perpendicular to everyone else. You guessed it, that one person's back was right up against our table. Oh, and this group was a group of Indian/Pakistani Gupta/al-Queda types.
Does all this make me a nitpicking faggot? Sure, why not. But at the same time. The things I'm complaining about seem like pretty reasonable requests - table not wobbling, normal beer, people next to you being normal, etc. The waiter was a nice guy, this shit wasn't his fault, gave him a decent tip.
Instead of this: