Friday, January 18, 2008
Tang Dynasty is not the restaurant to go to. Last time we went the wait-staff guy was asked about the ingredients in a dish and was wrong (as in "is there ___ in this dish?" "No." It was full of it. Or *maybe* "yes." and there wasn't.) This time I had a bit of coughing which sometimes happens when this little allergic canary has, oh, chocolate or a spice or food I'm not used to... no biggie... except... no, there was something *back* there. Inhale slooowly, c`ough hard, be glad I"m in chorus and know what happens back there. Third time, wthat spiky thing hat I assumed would be vegetative material came clear... only when I discreetly pulled it back out from under the plate I realized it was metal... looked like school binder wire only a whole lot thinner... so I simply handed it to the waiter and said it was in my food and I had choked on it. (I had coughed enough to attract a little bit of attention, I believe.) Welp, I got the eggplant for free... they were most apologetic and explained it was wire from the wok cleaning brush... and I was suspending judgement as is my wont. Paid for my beer with a 5, thinking "yes, I"ll tip." Except.. you know, I like to decide. THey never brought me my change, nor my neighbors (who'd also *intended* to leave it as a tip). About the only thing tackier than "do you need change" is not even asking, IMO... and while I can be the utter queen of tacky.... welp, that's why I don't work in a restaurant. It was off the rota but the Four Seasons HOuse is gone and I needed soemthign at the last minute, and I figured it could stand another chance. Welp, it had one.