Friday, May 2, 2008
The hair in my latte
The word "brunch" was like an enigma to me.
Although some places served from 10-2, rousing from my weekend slumber and actually leaving the house before 1:30 was impossible.
So you can imagine my delight when I awoke one Saturday morning at 10 a.m., fully rested and ready for my eggs benedict and latte.
We arrived at the restaurant and were greeted by glaring, awful lighting. Someone had left the blinds open and we were awash in a cold, white light that comes early spring only to remind us of that long winter we're trying to put behind us.
This, in itself was enough to ruin my mood. Food at a restaurant is actually secondary to lighting in terms of my enjoyment.
But I would not admit defeat so early in my brunch-venture, so I simply put on my sunglasses and ordered my latte.
It came moments later and I took a BIG swig.
"THIS IS COLD!" I alerted the server.
"Cold?" she asked, her face contorted in a way that suggested she had no idea what the word met.
"Yes," I said, "Ice cold."
She grabbed it, walked away without apology and returned a few minutes later with a creamy-hot-cinnamon-y-mess of delight and I thought brunch had finally been saved.
We chatted and sipped, pretended we didn't look like we were under the lights of a doctor's office and waited for our food.
But JUST as I was finishing my latte, I gasped.
Curled, around the remaining flecks of cinnamon and steamed milk, was a long, black, curly, human hair.
I gagged and I whimpered and I was APPALLED.
"Should we leave?" my date asked.
"YES" I panted between caffeinated breaths of disgust.
"Well, what do we do?" he asked again.
WE? What do WE do?
Well, I thought... I go to the bathroom, rid myself of cinna-hair and YOU go complain about it!
But instead of following through with this, I sauntered to the front desk, asked to see a manager, complained to the server and said we would be leaving. And so out the door we went, brunch free.
"That's terrible," he said. "Is there anything I can do to help you feel better? You want to go somewhere else? You want some water or something?"
I said water would be nice, but I kept my real thoughts to myself.
Because what I wanted, wasn't a new meal or a glass of anything to wash the hair down.
But my brunch-venture had ended without the proper etiquette...
And it wasn't just the hair in my latte that ruined it.