It seems like my options for an entirely enjoyable meal in my neighborhood have been dwindling.
By the time a new neighborhood joint gets their kitchen up to speed, the service goes to hell. Attitude is served in heaping portions, repeatedly, driving me away from the only nabe places with decent food.
I have a lunch date with a friend tomorrow who wants to see my new condo. Will I put her head on the chopping block with mine at the local purveyor of tude, the laughable Utopia? No!
The East Village is undergoing fledgling artsy-fartsy renaissance. Could this artsy-ness be the culprit? I am at the end of my rope, this is my neighborhood and I hate the shame I have for the restaurants service. I am considering writing anonymous letters informing the owners about the repellent effect of the affected staff.
As for tomorrows lunch, I would rather schlep across town than subject my friend to the rudeness of a pimply Euro-trash wannabe.