SCENE: A BUSTLING RESTAURANT IN WILLIAMSBURG, SUNDAY AT 1PM
“Table for three, please. Yes, we’re all here.”
Worst Person drums fingers on bar. “I am dying of hunger. Die-ing.”
Worst Person motions to bartender, who is frantically mixing Bloody Marys unaided. “Can I get some water? No, not tap, sparkling. A bottle of sparking.”
“This is flat water.”
“Excuse me, I put my name in 40 minutes ago? For three? We are all here at the bar waiting.”
“She has menus, she sees me watching her.” Worst Person in the world stares at the hostess, a 20-something who is just doing her job at the front of the restaurant.
“Hi, yes, sorry but can we sit at that table right there, the one that was just cleared and set?”
Worst Person and companions are seated. Worst Person scans menu, which contains the predictable brunch options.
Worst Person on phone, typing. “I’m texting my husband. He’s going to stop by to drop off a toasted gluten-free English muffin for me.”
Worst Person puts bag on banquette, crowding the party next to her.
“Can I have sparkling water?”
“I’ll have a latte. What non-dairy milks do you have?”
“This coffee is basically just a cup of steamed almond milk with a light coffee flavor. I need more coffee.”
“No, please don’t refill that. That’s sparkling water,” says Worst Person to a busboy.
“This side of seasonal fruit is melon, berries and apple? Apple.”
“Apple and melon are such a fruit plate cop-out.”
“Ew, that slice of apple tasted savory, like it was cut with a knife that had also touched onion or garlic.”
“Ew, still tasting that savory fruit.”
Husband of Worst Person walks in wearing the couple’s baby in an Ergo, hands over small Ziplock containing a toasted gluten-free muffin. Worst Person takes it and waves him and the baby away dismissively.
Food finally arrives. Worst Person stares at her plate like something is wrong with it. Her companions proceed to eat as one normally does.
Worst Person has not begun eating. She is clearly contemplating sending her order back.
“Like, if I asked you what non-dairy milks you had available for coffee and that you not put Hollandaise sauce on my eggs, would you not also raise the point that the side salad that comes with these eggs is dressed? When I ordered it? Knowing I am picky? Also, this dressing looks creamy.” Worst Person proceeds to dump her dressed side salad onto a small share plate. She moves the now-empty bottle of sparkling water to adjacent table that is set and ready for new patrons. She then places her plates of salad and picked-at fruit on the same table, and begins to begrudgingly eat her eggs (poached!) and her gluten-free English muffin.
“God, I am still hungry,” Worst Person says, eyeing her companions’ fries. “Can I have a couple?”
Worst Person finishes eating most of the fries off of her companions’ plates and adjourns to bathroom at back of restaurant.
“Ew, that bathroom.” Worst Person has returned. Her companions wave over the server for the bill.
Worst Person ignores bill until it is pushed her way.
“Can I just leave a twenty?” Worst Person asks. “I basically only ate half of mine. And look, they forgot to charge me for my sparkling water.”
Having paid, her companions rise to leave. They all hug. As they walk out the door, Worst Person says, “Let’s totally do this again next weekend!”
Photo via iStock.