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Let’s Keep This between Us

My magazine publishes restaurant reviews, not critiques. We don’t waste space on telling people where not to go — we’d rather describe a place worth a visit by boat. Therefore, this review will never see the light of day anywhere but here.
Whining about Dining

I’m not going to direct this review to you, dear reader, because you shouldn’t have anything to do with this eatery. My griping is directed to the proprietor of Abysmal by the Sea, an establishment not worth visiting unless someone else is paying and you bring along a sandwich in the car to eat on the way home.

I’ll try and be fair by starting and ending with a compliment. Up first: your flashing holiday lights and big “Merry Christmas!” signs throughout brightened up a dreary January 17.

On that January night, the wind chill was 8 degrees, yet you seated us next to a portable fan pumping out chilled air. When we asked that the fan be turned down or off, our waitperson said she’d tell the manager. Moments before the check arrived, he strolled over and pushed the temperature up.

History is such a big part of your swagger — your sign and your site boast that you were established well over a century ago. So I googled to see if the Lipton teabag you served me could be just as old. As I suspected, it could very well be, as Wikipedia states that Sir Thomas Lipton’s tea company got going not that many years after your restaurant opened. If it’s true that you bought up his first shipment, keep the tea you have left as artifacts! Don’t give these little calcified pockets from the 19th century to random diners who’ll just dunk them in tepid water.

boot As sad as it is that you don’t value the historical nature of your ancient teabags, have a little pity on the unsuspecting diner who takes a swig of what she thinks is tea. Send along a glass of water to assist in the inevitable attempt to swish away what tastes like an old boot put through a high-speed blender. (Water and bread were blessings bestowed on others, but not us. We literally got the boot.)

The bathroom’s lock was broken. I‘m guessing you figure there’s no need for a locking device when the powder room is small enough for patrons to jam an elbow or knee against the door throughout a powder room visit. Am I right?

You’ll notice that I didn’t mention the food. That’s because the teabag was the tastiest thing I sampled that night.

Let’s conclude with another compliment: parking outside your place was plentiful and also free.



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