A few days ago, a friend and I drove to Santa Fe to have lunch at a place where I’ve eaten several times. The food is very good and reasonably priced, the view is calendar-picture perfect, and the service has always been fine. But this time, the service was not so fine.
The two of us had set out to have an early lunch. But after one mishap, a little dillydallying, and an unplanned side trip, by the time we got to the restaurant our early lunch had morphed into a late one. We were both pretty hungry, and I was in a state of caffeine deprivation. We were seated immediately—and then completely ignored. Servers passed us by, to and fro, but our server was nowhere to be seen. Enough time passed that I was about to go over and buy a to-go cup of coffee at the front of the restaurant.
He Makes an Entrance
When our server—a young man in his 20s—finally showed up in our general vicinity, he was moving with a pronounced limp. My dining companion, a Type 2, decided to give him a pass based on the limp. Continue reading