Last night was to be a birthday celebration for my brother-in-law, but all it ended up being was a blog post.
The huz's immediate family all gathered at a nice restaurant downtown for a gourmet meal. I had checked out the menu on-line, and salivated in anticipation of my future piri piri shrimp dinner.
When we got there, I looked at the five steps leading up to the dining area and wondered how we were going to get my father-in-law in his wheelchair into the restaurant. The maitre d more or less absolved himself of any responsibility, and got kind of defensive about it. Regardless, we had enough strength in our party to lift my FIL in, but it kind of set a negative tone for the meal.
The huz and I ordered some wine and got over that issue easily enough. The others dwelled on it for a bit. They really should drink more. Then we ordered from our seemingly eager-to-please waiter, and we waited. And waited. And waited some more. I started looking for Chef Ramsay, wondering if he was sending food back into the kitchen, but food kept coming out, heading upstairs to the party room.
Finally, my BIL asked what the deal was, at which point we were promised food in 10-15 minutes. My nephew set the timer for 15 minutes on his smart phone, happy to prove the waiter to be a liar when time ran out and we were still unfed. We inquired again as to the timing of our food, and were told five more minutes. My nephew's phone once again proved to be more accurate than the waiter's promise. By this time, everyone was playing with his or her phone since conversation had run dry, and we had no food to stuff our faces with.
The huz and I were hungry, but weren't overly concerned. Waiting over an hour between appetizers and main courses wasn't awesome, but we were happy enough to wait. We had nowhere to go but home, and still did need to eat. The menu was said to be worth the wait.
The next thing I knew, my BIL was putting on his coat, announcing that the wait was ridiculous and that he had cancelled dinner.
Huh? I'm hungry mofo! You can't just do that! It was too late to protest. I saw my BIL clear up the bill for the appetizers and wine, and he beckoned for us to leave. I've never done that before and was feeling insanely awkward.
We ended up driving my BIL, his partner, and ourselves over to my BIL's place, where we were served a bowl of chips and some frozen pizza. Happy birthday to you, buddy. Too bad you cancelled your own cake!