Service: *
Food: Looking grim
Ambience: * *
Babe Count: * *
<\/i>
Okay. So the service rating of this place has just plummeted to one star. I haven’t actually eaten the food yet, but I’ve just been in the dining room and seen it. It’s looking pretty fuckin’ diabolical. Here’s the story. <\/p>\n
I arrive in the dining room. A waitress and a maitre d’ both approach me, slightly too urgently for my liking.<\/p>\n
The waitress says, “What is your room number?”<\/p>\n
I say, “One oh five.”<\/p>\n
She looks at her computer printout. “You’re here for bed and breakfast, not dinner bed and breakfast.”<\/p>\n
“I just checked in an hour or two ago, and paid for dinner bed and breakfast,” I say.<\/p>\n
She shows me the printout. I show her my meal card. “Eish,” she says, shaking her head. “These reception people.”<\/p>\n
The maitre d’ steps in. “That’s okay, sir,” he says. “Go ahead.”<\/p>\n
A woman with a clipboard steps up to the maitre d’. “Where you gunna sit this guy?” she says. “Is he just one person? We haven’t got space for one person. We can’t sit him at a table for eight!”<\/p>\n
The maitre d’ says to me, “Sir, is the table just for yourself?”<\/p>\n
“Just me,” I say.<\/p>\n
The woman says, “Well, we haven’t got a table for just one person.”<\/p>\n
I say, “Well, when will you have a table for me?”<\/p>\n
The maitre d’ says, “In about five minutes.”<\/p>\n
She says, “In about half an hour.”<\/p>\n
“Okay,” I say. “So if I come back at eight o’clock you’ll have a table for me?”<\/p>\n
“Ya,” she says.<\/p>\n
“Sorry,” says the maitre d’.<\/p>\n
So I’m back in my room considering making another cup of tea. (Earlier, the service rating hit four stars because I asked the lady at reception to organise me some real milk for my tea. She had them send over a cup full of the stuff. So I don’t have to use the powdered coffee-creamer.)<\/p>\n
I think I’ll be asking them for a free drink at the buffet for my trouble. Harummph.<\/p>\n