It's the service, stupid

Two experiences this week reminded me that a failure in service excellence can almost ruin a lovely occasion. Almost.

Having been to butter for fantastic cocktails and nibblies a month or so ago, we made a reservation for dinner this week. We were seated promptly and provided with menus, and then ... we were abandoned. Not even a cocktail order could we place. Midwest Medved was not amused. We determined to make our decisions and then draw the meal out by refusing to order all at once. Eventually we flagged down a server and ordered a house martini and cosmopolitan, and appetizers of tuna tartare and a warm goat cheese and spinach puff pastry tart. Our server became more attentive at this point, but we said we'd prefer to order dinner after we'd finished our appetizers. We were thrilled to find Bethel Heights Pinot Noir on the wine list, and ordered lobster salad (delish) from the appetizer menu and (undercooked) salmon with snap peas and spinach for dinner. Full, borderline unhappy and uninspired by the dessert menu, we headed home. The meal, service aside, was not spectacular, especially for the prices, so butter has been relegated to a place to grab a drink on the way to someplace better.

Michael Ondaatje was reading from his new novel, Divisadero, at the B&N at Union Square. My love of Ondaatje began not with The English Patient, but with one of his poems, The Cinnamon Peeler, introduced to me by Alex, a fellow undergrad. I always think he should play King Lear. After the reading and Q&A, event attendees lined up on the right wall of the top floor to have their books signed. MM and I strolled up the left wall in search of a "True Crime" book for a birthday gift for his brother. (It is, after all, a book store.) We were approached by a short, low talking woman, who told us that if we wanted a book from this section, we could ask at the information desk. We replied that we were browsing for a book from the section. Again, she directed us to the desk, saying that /there was an event going on/. I said, yes, thank you, I'd been to the event, and now I was shopping for a book. This is a bookstore, is that permitted? Again, she asked us to leave the section, although we were not in anyone's way, and were clearly shopping for a book. In a book store.

We left.