dinner drama

Seven of us meet for dinner to celebrate Shari’s birthday.  The restaurant we’ve chosen is Per Lei, a small Italian restaurant on the Upper East Side.  We all comment on its chic décor.  We have a nice corner table in the back, and everyone is settled in for a good dinner among good friends.  We’ve reviewed the menu; have decided who is splitting what with whom; and have ordered a nice red wine.  The restaurant is dark, and I discover a new Flashlight app that others at the table have.  I download it and am amazed at its potency. While I am engaged in conversation at the north end of the table, the conversation at the south end is not a happy one.  A three-time request for bread is ignored.  A dirt-encrusted glass is placed on the table.  And Shari has asked for the manager.

The manager arrives and clearly needs a course in The Customer is Always Right.  Shari politely tells him of her dissatisfaction with the service so far, and asks that he take our order.  Rather than apologize, he argues.  He is offended that Shari has criticized his wait staff, but worse, he suggests that bread was placed on the table when it wasn't.  He is unhappy with us for not being happy.  Shari asks for the bill; we pay, and we leave.

We end up at Grace’s, another local Italian restaurant.  Shari knows the management there, and has called beforehand.  By the time we arrive, about ten minutes later, our table is set and bread is on the table.

The food is great and the serving sizes large.  The house salad is outstanding.  I order an excellent scallop-with brussel sprouts-and spaghetti squash entree.

All seven of us have been (and some still are) Horace Mann moms.  The conversation never lags.  It is always nice to celebrate a good friend’s birthday. 

I had gotten Shari’s approval in advance to bring my camera.  But no one wants her picture posted in this blog.  I assume, though, that posting this photo with my good friend Zelia (behind the napkin) is okay.