Iron Fist

The local McMenamins has displeased me again. One of the waitstaff has pissed me off with his chumpishness. As a result, I am announcing another of my trade embargoes against this establishment in retaliation.

Now, realistically, it’s a McMenamins, and I don’t really expect fantastic service. It’s almost part of their appeal that it takes forever to get your check, and that you never really know who your waiter is. But there’s a bare minimum of shitty service that I demand out of a brewpub, and my waiter at the Market Street Pub failed to meet it.

So I walk in there and they’re swamped. Not a big deal to me, they get busy sometimes, and one of the waitresses cleared off a table for me and I sat down. Someone else came to take my order, and acted irritated that I was even there. If I hadn’t suggested that I wanted something to drink with my meal, he probably would have walked off and I would have had dinner without a glass of anything. But again, this about par for the course at McMenamins.

This was about the last time he came to my table, though. Another waiter brought out my food, and then my waiter took to yelling at me from the bar, rather than actually coming over to my table. “You get your food, bud?” and then a little later, “How’s it going?” You’re not my bud, jackhole, so don’t yell at me from across the room. Fuck.

Then, he pretty much forgot about me. The waitress who had cleared off my table brought me my check and cashed me out. I thought she might be my new server, so I went ahead and left a good tip, since she didn’t totally suck ass.

Nope. I had barely stood up when my old waiter dived onto the table like some sort of coke addict to grab the bill. “Thankyouhaveagoodnight,” he blurted, clearly wishing me a good night from the bottom of his heart, before whipping back around and dashing back to the kitchen without ever having looked at me.

Ergo, I am unleashing a trade embargo against the Market Street Pub. The last time I had to do this was when, despite being regulars, our waiter wouldn’t let us eat there after 10 o’clock (this was a while back, when Ashley was still 20). As a result of the harshness of my crippling economic sanctions, they went through a complete turnover of their waitstaff before I decided that they had suffered enough to have atoned for their previous insult.

For those of you who may doubt the sheer effectiveness and fury of my boycotts, I need only point out the former Ione Cafe on the PSU campus. One morning, they served me an omelette upon which the cheese was insufficiently melted. As a result, I announced a formal trade embargo against them. They didn’t take me seriously, and didn’t repent; two months later, they were out of business. That’s right, that was me that caused them to close their doors forever.

So let this be a warning to you, Market Street Pub, and any other small businesses that might have pissing me off as part of their business strategy. I am a force to be reckoned with. And bring me some better fries.

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