... said the severe looking woman, as we waited to see if we could get a table at "Top of the Park" on a Friday night. Not "Welcome to Top of the Park!" ... not "Good evening!" ... just ...
"Hold on!"
And that just set the theme for this restaurant...
We sat at a table in the middle of a crowded restaurant, full of very drunk-via-BYO white people. Perfectly maintained middle aged women with their golf-crazed, Mountain Laker husbands, sporting "The Uniform": Polo shirts, khakis, and brown loafers -- in a pizza shop no less -- and not a person of color to be found.
We turned to one tall, brown-haired ice princess of a waitress, "Could we have that table over by the wall?" Girl asked.
"No, that's for a party of four, and if there's a reservation, you know...."
A party of two was promptly seated at said table after she finished explaining this.
We looked at each other and sighed.
"You wanna leave?" Girl asked.
"No, let's tough it out," Guy replied. "Though my father would have walked out of here already."
"Um, the specials tonight are... "
Wendy Wonderblonde looked up at the ceiling, where she was able to read the invisible ink of the evening's menu.
"Chicken Fran-chezz, and [details unimportant] with shrimps."
We looked at her, and each other. We both smirked.
"Actually, can we just get pizza?" Girl asked.
"Oh, um, sure!" Wendy exclaimed (without looking at the ceiling). "What kind..."
"The margherita?" Girl asked. Guy nodded.
"Sure!" Wendy parroted, scribbling something that looked vaguely like a smiley face.
The waitress trotted off, and Girl remarked, "Oh, she's so cute!..."
This was indeed a rare statement. Her ladyship usually doesn't like the pretty perky types, finding them highly nauseating.
"But you don't usually..." Guy started to say.
"It's the way she talks," said Girl, anticipating Guy's every thought (as usual).
The salad arrived, and it was decent. Then...
"Um, hi. OK, I should have remembered this but ... like, we have no fresh mozarella, so we can't do the margherita."
We quickly decided on mushroom pizza "with basil," which arrived on short order...
... without the basil. We had to ask for it again.
We slogged through the meal, trying to ignore the drunk blonde woman with the obnoxious laugh at the table 4 feet adjacent to us. The pizza wasn't bad, but it wasn't worth the rudeness either.
Finally, at the end of the evening, we asked Wendy Wonderblonde for the check. She managed to ask us if we wanted any dessert (again, without looking at the ceiling), and we declined. We asked to have the remaining pizza packed up.
And this is how it looked. A visual summary of the whole experience, indeed:
Rating: :) (1 Smiley out of 5)
Cons: Highly unfriendly staff, seating too crowded, poor before-during-and-after treatment. Food was OK.
Pros: Wendy Wonderblonde was cute, even when she bumped into walls.
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