Breakfast Blues

Breakfast Blues

So we realised, too, that the clock in the phone was in the wrong time zone.

My dork of a room mate dragged me up telling me it was already 8 plus.

Duh! And SATCHEL actually wore his watch to bed! Can't believe it.

So there was I cleaned and dressed and dragging my tired ass to the lift only to discover that it was ONLY 8 am.

What the heck.

We walked to the Ishwara for breakfast.

The waitress doing the registration was already dour faced and when I asked for an inside table, she told me curtly that there are no small tables in the air con area.

Yeah, right. Is it my fault?

So you have tables outside?

Yes.

Is outside smoking?

Yes.

I don't want smoking. (Remember, someone already has his mucus factory baptised and commissioned for production?)

She gave a sour face and distorted her mouth to the right and showed me a face.

BLOODY F***ING BITCH.

So I went in and sat down at a table for 6. And I told her that if there are other small groups of 2 who want to sit inside, we are ok to share table with another couple of diners.

It was just out of hypocrisy that I said that because I freaking knew that the hotel is not even 50% full last night.

There is no way a 150-seater establishment serving breakfast from 6.30 am to 10.30 am (across 4 hours) in a hotel with 300 rooms cannot accommodate diners at 6-seater tables.

Furthermore, when I went swimming the evening before, there was only my friend and I. TWO PEOPLE IN THE FREAKING POOL.

Just do your distributions and you know. (In other words, don't question my assumptions.)

So we went in and discovered that half the inside was empty.

And throughout the entire dinner, the air con part NEVER EVER FILLED UP.

The reaction and pretense was not called for.

Breakfast was decent, not excellent but the dour service left a really bad taste in my mouth.