Slippy and I tried out this vegan place near my house tonight that everyone except for this one dude at work keeps raving about and on the most honest? I have to side with my brother from work.
Shit was unreal.
Service sucked, coconut is not bacon no matter how they dress it up and they’re high if they think they can pull the coconut wool over my eyes (as if they’re not high regardless), and most of all the CLIENTELE sucked.
Now, you may have previously read that I said something to my friend about my ass and hammies being sore from yoga, and you may have taken from that post that I have a loud speaking voice, but I do not. Like, bitch isn’t meek, but I certainly haven’t been told to pipe down since I was in my early teens. They heard me talking about my sore lower end because the tables were like, on top of each other.
I witnessed more than one really unfortunate date this evening, but the one directly to my left was perhaps the most tragic I have ever seen. The woman came in holding a single rose and was doing that dramatic “looking around for someone you don’t know” thing that people did in silent movies and I was like, “Oh no,” as soon as I saw that happen because I just knew I was witnessing one person who seemed unbalanced and I couldn’t imagine who’d agreed to meet her.
I’ll tell you who it was. It was an ill-mannered freak. The dude showed up, he was moderately handsome in like a “Bill Pullman but maybe kind of Italian” kind of way, wearing workout clothes and clearly disappointed by this woman as soon as he saw her. They barely had three minutes of rough conversation before they just fell silent.
Since this place is all vegan and fucked up, they ordered a soup for an appetizer and SHARED it and did so by placing it in the middle of the table. Soup in the middle of the table for two people to share with two separate spoons with a foot between each of them. Animals with tools. Would it have killed them to ask for the soup to be sent over in individual cups? Killed them? For the sake of my eyes at least? People with gross soup manners are a breed I want nothing to do with.
This is how they handled it. She would take a spoonful (inward, I should mention) and then hold her hand under the spoon as she brought it to her mouth. There was soup all over her hand and all over the table after each bite because of the distance the spoon had to travel.
This is how this disgusting monster of a man handled it: He took a spoonful (again, an inward spoonful), lifted it from the bowl, held up his glass of water, and held the spoon over the water as he brought it to his mouth. He also kept the glass of water under his jaw while he put the spoon in his mouth. By the time he was done, he had a glass of half soup/half water/all nasty.
The ordered their meals and took them home in little boxes and got in their respective cars and left. They didn’t even stay for the meal. I also would have not sat through a meal with that man, but when I think about the promise/sheer desperation that the woman walked into the restaurant with, I knew that she was probably suffering emotionally.
Sometimes you need to see things like that to remind yourself why you’d totally rather be eating with an old friend and drinking organic wine and just doin’ you and living your life without trying to meet someone special. As long as I have a pal to eat with, I don’t ever need to worry about being alone, especially if the alternative is sitting across from a grown man in workout clothes while he drops spoonfuls of soup into his water glass after I showed up expecting my mid-century “I’ll be the one with the single rose” fantasies to pan out.