Hubby and I usually go out for date night on Friday night. This Friday night our babysitter (Tigger) was out for her own date night and we were unable to go. She was home on Saturday, so we went out to this new Chinese restaurant that opened just down the road from our house.
My husband's alter ego is a reviewer of all things expat (at least all things expat related to Warsaw). Last week's review was in regard to the rudeness we experienced at this restaurant. We gave them another chance, and this time the staff was much more pleasant. The management most likely told them not to be rude to the customers.
Instead we should poison them.
We started by ordering a large beer (for him) and a glass of red wine (for me). Our waitress said, "We don't have red wine."
I stared at her. "I understand all of those words individually, but together they do not make sense."
Then, Dylan impaled himself with a chopstick.
After we pulled the splinters out and stopped the bleeding, the first dish arrived. Spring rolls. They were quite small. Dylan and I tried to be very professional (we're reviewing the food after all). "It's a little too salty. There's more than a hint of garlic."
The next dish was Kung Pao chicken. This one was pretty oily and just not incredibly tasty. Again, far too much salt was used.
The third dish was not the one we ordered, so we sent it back. In order to punish us, they returned with a dish that after two bites made my tongue go completely numb.
The waitress returned and asked if we would like dessert. I said, "The food you have brought us has gotten progressively worse. What will you bring next, a steaming pile of dog shit?"
To which my husband replied, "Is that an option? I'd like to trade this dish in for that!"
We tipped the waitress well (she'll need it for when the health department shuts them down) and left the building like it was a nuclear disaster waiting to happen.
Moral: Don’t fucking tell me I can’t have cake
3 hours ago