cblj_backup | (no subject)

JULIUS MEINL, YOU ARE SO FIRED.

Okay, quick disclaimer: I don't drink coffee. More accurately, I can't drink coffee, because it gives me headaches. I haven't had any since I was seventeen and realized the link between a coffee at seven and blindness at eight-fifteen. I am a morning person by nature so this rarely bothers me.

But this means that in my personal sphere, cafes are kind of pointless. I don't socialise well and I can't appreciate good coffee or even whine about bad coffee, and honestly it's ridiculous to pay like four dollars for a cup of stupid tea. So I don't go to cafes much.

But I've been meaning to try Julius Meinl because I heard it had really good pastries, and I can personally vouch for the fact that their crepes are awesome. Except, you know, they don't bring you anything with which to eat the crepes.

Okay I'm telling this story backwards.

I WENT TO JULIUS MEINL. I walked in and it was approximately the temperature of the sun inside, and also the host was, I don't know, having a smoke or something, so despite there being five people in Julius Meinl uniforms in the room, none of them would seat me until she got back. By then there was a line, and she briefly attempted to seat me with the three strangers behind me.

Once we sorted that out I asked for an outdoor table, because it was Very Warm indoors. I was seated, and the waiter showed up and took my order, which was a lemonade and a nutella crepe. Not rocket science, at least I assume not, I'm not good at making crepes but I don't ask people to pay seven dollars for my crepes.

Radio silence for twenty minutes. And I'm looking around myself thinking, you know, other people have waters. Other people have beverages they paid for, even.

And then a guy appears, a different guy from my waiter, and gives me a confused look.

"Are you the crepe?" he asks.

Yes. Yes I am the crepe.

He puts it down in front of me. "Did you want anything else?"

"Well," I said, "I'd like a glass of water, and the lemonade I ordered. And some silverware to eat my crepe with would be awesome."

I'm not proud of being a dick. My one consolation is that when I said this, the women at the table next to me started laughing like crazy.

So he disappeared and about five minutes later came back with silverware and a very warm lemonade. I assume because it had been sitting in a cafe the temperature of an active volcano, waiting to be brought to me, for twenty minutes.

FIRED.

Mind you, it was a very good crepe.