Reservations About These Reservations

We have some friends staying from across the country. They get here shortly before dinner and we walk over to the pub/restaurant we booked last week.

Me: “Hi. I have a reservation for [My Name].”

Worker: “Oh, sure, how many was it?”

Me: “Eight.”

Worker: “Okay. You can push those two tables together if you like.” 

So much for being reserved. I feel like they forgot about us. We’re lucky it is as empty as it is or we might not have been seated.

Me: “We did ask for a high chair; I was told that it wouldn’t be a problem.”

Worker: “Yeah, I’ll bring it over in a minute.”

It takes us reminding them twice and fifteen more minutes before the highchair appears, and it isn’t even clean.

Me: “Can we have some sort of wipe to clean this?”

Worker: “Of course, I can get something for you. Oh, and by the way, we have a quiz night at seven, so we will need the table then.”

Me: “It’s six now!”

Worker: “Yep.”

Me: *To my friends* “I am so sorry; they are not normally so useless here. There’s a restaurant around the corner.”

Friends: “Yeah, let’s go.”

Worker: “Wait, so, you’re not staying now?”

Me: “Nope.”

She wandered off, muttering about people wasting her time. We, on the other hand, had a great meal and fantastic service. The pub was on our way home. We looked through the windows and the table we had was still there and empty, as was most of the pub. Looks like the quiz night wasn’t such a popular event as they thought.