Electric Company
Sam took me out to Allen & Delancey tonight to celebrate my birthday. Neither of us had ever been there before. We decided to get there a little early to have a drink at the bar (I had what was basically a mojito, he had a Manhattan) (incidentally, having a drink at the bar before dinner is criminally underrated). We sat down and ordered wine. Arcade Fire came on the stereo and I remarked that their playlist seemed very similar to my iTunes. (I’m apparently not as original as I thought.)
That was when most of the lights went out and the music stopped.
“Maybe they blew a fuse,” I said. “They probably just need to flip a circuit breaker or something.”
A few minutes went by.
A few more minutes went by.
The waiter came over and said he would keep us updated. Then the manager came over and said the electrician was coming; his entire kitchen was out, including the coolers and the hood and the stove. We were welcome to wait, or leave.
“Could we have some bread?” I asked.
He looked pained, but he said I could not, because they bake the bread in a convection oven right before they bring it to the table.
Several more minutes went by. We were getting rather hungry.
The manager came over again and apologized. He told us that this had apparently happened once before, quite recently, and they thought that the problem was fixed, but it wasn’t, and he was so sorry but could he rebook us at another date, any time we wanted, and of course the drinks were on the house.
I didn’t tell him it was my birthday dinner.
