I recently made a dinner reservation on behalf of a group of friends. There were six of us dining out on a girls night as part of a girls weekend away in the Blue Mountains, north west of Sydney.
We found a local restaurant in Blackheath, called Vulcans. It was hard to get a lot of information about the menu, which is tricky when trying to cater to different tastes, preferences and allergies. I couldn't find a website for the restaurant and there were no menus online. That should have been my first clue. But after consultation with my group of travelling companions, we booked.
The booking process was not overly pleasant. The person on the phone made me feel like I had boarded the Crankypants Express. That should have been my second clue. Then, I needed a credit card number to secure the booking. A first for me to simply book a table of six at a country establishment, but I obliged. However, in hindsight, that should have been my third clue.
Once in Blackheath, a day and a half before the evening in question, one of the women in our group expressed some concern. Although the food was supposed to be excellent, she'd found out the menu was quite limited. And by limited, I mean three entrees and four mains. I get more choice at our family Christmas. My friend was concerned because the only protein she eats is chicken.
Now, how many restaurants have you dined at that don't have a chicken dish? Admittedly, it's also rare to meet someone who only eats chicken, but hey, we're paying customers right? So we get to choose what we pay for.
I immediately phoned Vulcans. Of course, to my surprise, there was no chicken on the menu. My friend said she'd eat salmon as a compromise. No salmon either.
A very nice man described the whole menu to me over the phone. With only seven dishes, it took under two minutes. Even so, I was glad I wasn't speaking to the person who took my booking. I appreciated this lovely guy's time and his friendliness and I told him I'd discuss it with my chicken appreciating friend and get back to him soon.
Within a couple of minutes I was calling back to confirm that unfortunately we were going to have to cancel our booking for the following evening. Also, very unfortunately, I had again boarded the Crankypants Express.
I recognised his dull and unfriendly voice immediately and his posh accent filled me with dread. I quickly apologised and very politely explained that I'd have to cancel our booking, hoping to get off the phone in less than 60 seconds. It was not to be.
His exact words were, "Is this about the woman who only eats chicken?"
"Uh, yes", I said.
"So", he continued with a well spoken and sarcastic tone, "does she eat chicken for breakfast, lunch and dinner?"
"Well", I responded, "I'm pretty sure she eats cereal for breakfast."
Clearly the conversation wasn't going well. Expressing some exasperation, he continued, "I wish you had asked this question BEFORE you booked!" I explained that I'd never heard of a restaurant that doesn't serve chicken, so I never imagined the need to ask. I tried to finish the conversation by politely saying that I wanted to give him as much notice as possible of our cancellation to allow him to arrange his schedule for the following day. In a smarmy posh voice he said, "Oh, thank you so much for that." Click.
Did he just hang up on me? OMG, he just hung up on me! He has to be the chef.
Kim x
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