Bar Service?

I am a fan of sitting at the bar in a restaurant. There’s usually a game on, it makes for much better people watching, and I usually get pretty attentive service. Usually. This past weekend though, not so much…

I met my sister for drinks and dinner at the new Big Papi’s Grille in Framingham. It used to be the Metro 9 Steakhouse, but the Red Sox’s David Ortiz lent his name to the restaurant, and it’s now the prime example of “build it, and he will come.” Two months ago, this place was empty. Now, it’s packed. Good for them. I wish I could say that the influx of business explains the bad bar service, but it was bad when the bar was empty, let alone full.

We were there a couple of months ago, had the bar practically to ourselves, and my sister ordered a dirty martini. Instead, she got dirty water. There’s no confusing the flavor of vodka for water, so that’s some pretty bad bartending. Anyway, I digress…

(I do feel the need to say that I did have an event at Metro 9, and I could not have asked for a better experience. Everything was perfect – absolutely FLAWLESS.)

We got there at 5:30 on Saturday evening, hoping it wouldn’t be so busy so we could get some attention from the bartenders. No luck – the bar was full, but we were able to get a seat after about 15 minutes. We each ordered a beer, and our glasses were pretty much empty for 15 minutes before we could get one of the three bartenders to give us the time of day. Now, when I say it was full, I mean the seats were all full – by no means was the bar mobbed. There was no excuse for empty glasses.

The gentleman sitting next to me ordered a Sam Adam’s Summer Ale. The bartender poured him an Octoberfest and put it in front of him without saying a word. At the very least, I would have expected her to say that they were all out of Summer Ale, and were now carrying Octoberfest as their seasonal beer. But no, the non-ordered beer was put in front of him without explanation. He took it in stride, but personally I have a problem drinking Octoberfest in August. But that’s just me.

At close to 7:30, after being there for two hours, we decided to leave to get a bite to eat. Yes, we could have eaten there, but the bartenders never once asked us if we were joining them for dinner, nor could we get their attention long enough to signal one of them for a menu. So we paid our tab and left.

On to bad bar experience number two.

We went from Big Papi’s to a small, family owned Italian restaurant in another part of town. There was a 40 minute wait for a table, so we decided to eat at the bar. Mistake.

There were three bartenders working there too, but we got stuck with the greasy sleaze-ball named Charlie. He started out fine by asking us where we got our fake ID’s (we’re both in our thirties). It wasn’t charming at all, but it was clear that he thought it was. We let it go – no big deal, just a bad joke. Then he started making jokes about having a threesome with us. From there, he started asking questions about whether our daddy spanked us hard enough (in that particular way that only a dirty old man can do). I kid you not. This is a man who works for tips. And needless to say, he didn’t get much of one…

I’m usually pretty good at letting these types of things go. Well, maybe not so much letting it go as not making a scene but talking about it for the rest of my life. I’m used to dirty old men. I’m a dirty old man magnet, for some reason. But this guy just got under my skin. He’s a bartender, in a family restaurant nonetheless. Now, granted, the families aren’t sitting at the bar, but the people at the bar tend to be indicative of a family-friendly clientele. Charlie was just so inappropriate. Never in my life have I even considered saying something to a restaurant manager, and I was pretty close to doing it that night. Bad jokes are one thing, being sexually harassed while trying to eat dinner is something entirely different.

Maybe I’ve been spoiled by my bartenders in the past. Or maybe I should just stick to my old stand-bys… not only would Patrick, Adam and Matt never ask me if I want to join them for a threesome with my sister, they never let my glass sit empty and always get me a menu when I want one. They are the reason why I think bartenders are Gods.