At the Host Stand
Restaurant A: “Is your whole party here? We can’t seat you if your whole party isn’t here so I’m just going to stand here and make you wait until he comes back from the bathroom.”
Restaurant B: “Oh, you’re the ‘X’ party. Welcome. We have your table right over here.”
Taking the Drink Order
Restaurant A: “We have frozen margaritas out of the machines.”
Restaurant B: “Would you like to see a wine list or shall I make a recommendation?”
Ordering Food
Restaurant A: “No, we can’t substitute shrimp for scallops. There are no substitutions. If you make me substitute then the price goes from $12.95 to like, $22.”
Restaurant B: “We can do whatever you want. No, really. We can do whatever you want. You just tell me and I’ll make it happen.”
Clientele:
Restaurant A: Bebe Customers from P.G. County who think wearing sunglasses when it’s 10:00 at night, spending the entire dinner with your friends on your cell phone talking to other people, pushing your chair out in the aisle so others can’t get by, and running your waiter ragged qualifies as classy.
Restaurant B: Arrived in a Mercedes, never been on the metro, owns places in Georgetown, Bethesda, and Dubai, their children went to Georgetown and are heads of surgery at GW, Hopkins, Jackson Memorial, their grandchildren go to Georgetown and have not-so-secret profiles on Late Night Shots.
Cleanliness
Restaurant A: I would have preferred to know that dirty long snot was at the bottom of our chip basket prior to my stuffing my face with the chips.
Restaurant B: Came by with the crumb cleaner between courses. Refolded my napkin when I went to the ladies room.
Dessert
Restaurant A: “Fuck this place. Let’s leave.”
Restaurant B: They called it cake, but I swear it was ice cream.
Waiter? The check!
Restaurant A: Split it four ways? Sure.
Restaurant B: I couldn’t say for sure. Mr. X paid. I do know that the bottle of “recommended” wine was more than my television. I suppose it’s worth it to actually look at the wine list. I don’t know why I’m complaining though, I didn’t pay. Well, not in cash anyway. I paid it off throughout the duration of the evening.
Answer Key
Restaurant A: Lauriol Plaza. I really really really hate Lauriol with it’s ordinary food and rude staff, the combination of which forms zero basis for their lines and crowds. But because Pennsyltuckey’s only resource for Mexican food is Taco Bell, Sixes, who was in town this weekend, picked Lauriol. She was happy with it and that’s all that counts.
Restaurant B: Il Mulino. Mr. X picked it. We toyed with other restaurants but he wanted to try Il Mulino because someone we know recommended the one in New York. He was happy with it and that’s all that counts.
I would like to be taken to Restaurant B, please. I’ve been to A enough to know what to expect.
Babe’s Chicken Dinner House kicks both of their asses.
HAHAHAHAHA omg I kill me. I need to get out of the burbs.
Fuck. I would’ve killed to bitch those fuckers out in Spanish after seeing that carcass at the bottom of the chip bowl.
Sorry I bailedX2. Next dinner’s on us!
Lauriol Plaza doesn’t even merit the name Mexican food. It’s craptasmic Tex-Mex at best. Even the waiters at Chili’s laugh at the piss quality of their food. They would be chased out of Arizona by irate citizens if they tried to set up shop within 500 miles of our borders.
In short: fuck Lauriol Plaza.
MA – A sucks. Ordinary at best. I still don’t understand the draw.
Patsy – Babe’s does not pretend to be something it’s not, that’s fo’ sho. And Happy Anniversary!!!
E – It was gross. We all had this look of confusion when we reached the bottom of the chip basket. Had it been a straw wrapper, I still would have been mad, but not disgusted. Unfortch, it was once something edible. Ick.
JB – Oh, so now all of a sudden Arizona’s borders are “our” borders? It’s about time you embrace your home state and my favorite place in the world (besides Bloomingdales.) I cannot wait for the day when Lauriol is dunzo. It’s like I used to say when I worked at one of the illustrious homebuilders, “When the market turns, our customers are going to remember how badly they were treated, and that’s not going to be good for us.” I hope the same for Lauriol and more. I hope their “clientele” dissipates soon enough, so that they have to start putting advertisements on people’s windshields to draw them back. Then they’ll be substituting my fucking shrimp for scallops any day of the week without an upcharge. Assholes.
Ugh, I hate Lauriol Plaza. Next time, try La Lomita in Capitol Hill.
You should start stealing the water glasses from Lauriol to get back at them. Once, BMW and I were at Ardeo in Cleveland Park, and the meal was meh and overpriced, so I stole their salt-shaker-pepper grinder-in-one contraption. Take that, you greedy fuckers.
Don’t think I’ve ever heard anything good about Lauriol Plaza from you or Sixes, or King of the Dog Park (who I remember enjoyed yelling at the LP Goers to go back to the suburbs.) That said, if Taco Bell is your only choice for Mexican…
I remember the first time a waiter came by with a crumb cleaner, at an Italian Restaurant in Atlanta (Veni, Vidi, Vici I believe was the name.) Waiter went so fast I thought he was using a mini vacuum cleaner. Think I started leaving crumbs on purpose in order to get him to do it again!
Ah but without going to LP, what would we have to bitch about? It’s not like The King and I would ever get you to DIK again! LOL!
Shannon – I’ve eaten there. It’s good. There’s a sister restaurant (La Lomita Dos) which is on Conn Ave in Chevy Chase.
E – I like that idea, but their water glasses are crap. Plastic and gross and in my opinion, does not get clean enough in their dishwashers.
Stoic – That’s an excellent memory you have. The King is right. You have to question a restaurant whose only customers come from the outer reaches of the ‘burbs.
Sixes – I hate that restaurant. If I want to eat Dupont Italian Slophouse, I can just go to the freezer section of Safeway and buy frozen pasta. it’s all the same.
I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again, there is no real Mexican food in DC and its a perfect travesty. The El Salvadorans have a total lock on the latino food industry.
I’ve heard that Mexican Embassy staff frequents Guajillo on Wilson Blvd near Rosslyn, and they serve Tecate in cans (which is better). Wouldn’t El Tamarindo – just a couple blocks up – have been better?
I heartily recommend the stands near the soccar fields in Queens New York as the best and freshist South American food you can find north of the border. Their cevechie can’t be beat! Sure, it’s serve yourself but the food and view compensate
No mention of C and D. C, where they ran out of Coke and our fisting conversation caught the attention of all the “proper people”. We also learned that Scotch Bonnett can be eaten by non-drinkers (it’s either a pepper or a “fairy ring” mushroom — go figure).
And D was the best — Goober Pie with Piggie Noses.
6’s and 7’s was in heaven with the pie — could have become 12’s and 14’s.
Goober Pie… I think I know where restaurant D was.
As for C, I’m not sure there’s a place in DC where the topic of fisting would shock someone. At least–I’ve never been there. Or maybe I just don’t notice when people stare at my lack of a filter. Cock shit fuck cunt.
Mr X are you calling me fat?
Personally all DC eateries suck. So what can you do? Just drink so much that you don’t care.
Scotch Bonnet is a kind of hot pepper, I think it’s the same as a habanero.
I worked as a hot sauce salesgirl in high school.
And what does Pennsyltuckey have to eat at their restaurants besides slurping down Natty Ice with pork rinds and beef jerky?
Allezoop – Real Mexican Food can be found in Mexico. Or as an alternative, Atlanta.
Wild Bill – Will keep that in mind next time I’m meandering soccer fields in Queens!
Mr X – My dear…the title of the post was “Two Consecutive Saturday Nights.” Those events happened on Friday. You know, the night I fell asleep before giving you any action?
E – Well, you should have come out on Friday. You would have seen it.
Sixes – sigh. No, no one is calling you fat. I thought you progressed past that! Damn.
Shannon – A “hot sauce salesgirl.” Wow. That sounds like a lot of fun. Did you get to wear an outfit? Do you still have it? Would it be something I would want to wear to bed? Wink wink. (I’m envisioning a cowboy hat, cowboy boots and some sort of slutty apron.)
6’s 7’s – of course not. You were great.
Love the eatery reviews, really, thank you. Now I have an idea of where to eat ( or not ) the next trip to DC.
Now to find a nice hotel/motel without robbers in the halls.
DIK is the suck. And I knew what restaurant A was from jump. (Though I must say that a place that serves both queso and fried plantains can’t be all bad.)
Gunn Lino – There are other, better places to eat. Trust me. Sushi, I got the goods. Italian, also got the gem place. Let me know when you are coming and I’ll map out your culinary heaven.
Mama – You actually came up in our convo at LP on Saturday. Sixes asked if we heard from you and I said, “We communicate via blog.” Then Sixes friend Sassy Pet Sak asked who you were and The King of the dog park and I said, “Uh only the most cutest family ever.” Then we started raving about Ruby and then Sassy asked which parent Ruby looked like and we were like, “Ohhhh…they are all beautiful…you can’t tell….”
True that. Your tater must the most beautiful kid ever. Admit it! And we all know that you moved to the west coast because you didn’t want her to have to look at our mugs. You wanted her to be with the beautiful people, DIDN”T YOU! (can’t blame you…**sniffle**). We miss you. All of you!
Sushi? In DC? Velvet is officially crazier than me. Girlfriend…get OUT.
Mr. X, the King and I decide that we love you too and we’re sorry that Velvet failed on Fri night. We were appalled when she told us she fell asleep. We take the blame.
I never hear anything good about Lauriol, yet whenever I go by there it’s overflowing with patrons. So strange.
Because people in DC have very low standards, people in the suburbs fall somewhere lower than that. So what does THAT tell you.
But we still go there…just like people in DC still ride the metro and vote and own a car and spend hours looking for parking and all the other things that suck but really what choices are there.
And the best Mexican food is in San Diego (as I catch up on comments from HOURS ago).
Now that I am living in DC, I am afraid I will be riding metro more often than I did when my home was in Fairfax. That is entirely unsettling to me, but the idea of trying to find parking everywhere I go is even more unsettling.
And for the record, having read what I have read in the past about Lauriol, this suburban kid has never eaten there. Adjust your opinion of standards accordingly.
I grew up in Woodbridge, if I ever wanted to encounter Hood(bridge)rats I’d go straight to LP. Or hell.
Yes, Velvet, I sold hot sauce. No uniform, but I did wear a kicky apron. I’ll have to blog about it sometime.
I should have known you were talking about Lauriol Plaza. Ick. I don’t know why people keep going there — it’s as bad as a chain. Personally, I think you have to go into the ‘burbs for good Tex-Mex — but not the far ‘burbs. Try Guajillo in Arlington.
Actually, my favorite (because their salsa rocks) is Alero at 13th and U. They never have a ridiculous wait either. Even on Fridays, you can usually get right in. And no one in there wears sunglasses either.
You need to try Taqueria Tres Reyes in Riverdale, Maryland (not the most chi chi part of town, but….)
or Tia Queta in Bethesda: http://www.tiaqueta.com/
or Samantha’s in Langley Park:
http://www.washingtonian.com/restaurantreviews/1127.html
or here:
http://www.cubadeayerrestaurant.com/
Snot seems to be the theme today (see my blog.) That or bacon over at Jordan’s:
http://jordanbaker.blogspot.com/
I have OCD. I can’t stop gagging thinking about that picture. I’m going to feel all “oogee” for the rest of the week.
I’ve ridden on the metro. Does that make me low class?
Uncle Keith: yes, it does.
Thank God! That means that time I got a blow job in my girlfriend’s driveway didn’t make me low-class. I was already low-class!
Uncle Keith, don’t listen to E. E making proclamations that one is “low class,” is like Carnie Wilson and Oprah giving out diet advice. E’s from Jersey. I mean, come on.
Velvet: About 11 hrs later, but yes, my memory is spectacular
Sixes: Of course the best Mexican is in San Diego, practically Mexico anyways, just like the best Cuban food is in Miami.
Speaking of, what is a Cuban place doing all the way up in Burtonsville?
Hey, velvet, of course she can make proclamations like that. After all, it takes one to know one. It’s like when somebody from New Orleans smells bourbon and cigarettes…they know at the end of the rainbow of liquor and smoke there’s gonna be a fat drunk redneck playing a banjo.
Same with Jersey. We just [i]know[/i].
Number 2 – Don’t you want a better name than something that references your birth order? We’ll have to come up with something for you. And, so, you admit that E is in fact, Jersey low class? Wow. This is unprecedented! I was just taking stabs at her figuring she’d bounce back with her fancy MFA and shit. We’ll see. She must be busy right now. Probably watching the dog hump that bear she has.
Stoic – You know Sixes is never happy. If you took her to that restaurant in San Diego she’d say, “Lauriol is much better.” I’m starting to figure her out after all these years…
Birth order’s not that bad. Could be worse. Could be representative of a bodily function.
The only reason I like Lauriol is liquid cheese and watching you CRINGE. I mean I did say that you didn’t have to go! And you said “I love that place”. YOU DID! I have the text to prove it! But we love it not for the food or the wait or the sunglasses…but to BITCH and MOAN about it.
I think we should call Number 2, “SIXES BAIT” or “VIctim” or something!
I need an idea for a post…it is CUNT day anyway.
Velvet: True, though I really doubt she’d ever say that something in DC is better than something in CA. That would be the day. So it takes about 4 yrs or so to even begin to figure out Sixes does it?
I love their salads. Wait. I used to. They changed it to that nasty mustard dressing and I’m over the salads. All they have left is shrimp fajitas. And even then… you saw how much slicing and dicing I had to do to get the shrimp poop out. I like those two entrees okay, but it ain’t worth the money or the wait or the lousy service. If Lauriol is empty, as during the great snowstorm of 2007 when we went with Mutt and Jeff and the ex of my ill-fated relationship, that’s the only good time to be there. If the parking lot of Lauriol is empty, then you’re in great shape.
Skip Cunt day if you don’t have an idea. The worst thing ever is when you force something just to write. You have to let it happen naturally. I remember a certain tool who used to start out with “I struggled with what to write today.” That’s why his blog sucked ass and balls. Don’t struggle. Let it come. Err. Cum.
Stoic – You know that Sixes loves to complain about D.C. Loves it. It’s her hobby. Here, I’ll give you the Sixes cheat sheet about what’s in her head: Sex, complaining about D.C., Sex, complaining about D.C., then more sex.
So somehow this blog piece went from bad Mexican food to Cunt day. Yep. I’m on Velvet’s blog all right.
The reason he is called Number 2 is because he is a piece of crap AND second to me—I am NUMBER ONE. I am THE BEST. I am the favorite, I did no scheming growing up, I’m not responsible for the crap Number 2 took in the bathtub when he was 6 and blamed it on Ryan & Kyle.
Let it be known that Number 2 is in Philly, picking up pre-op trannies. Yep, Number 2, that girl whose name you didn’t remember? That was Velvet.
Is that good enough?
And Uncle Keith—the BJ in the driveway is SO not low-class. I like to do it when we’re approaching a toll booth, just for the added bonus of the toll collector’s unmistakable delight at what he’s seeing—only in the hopes that the next toll collector I wish a good day won’t mumble something unintelligible and ungrateful back at me.
And sorry I couldn’t get back to you sooner, Velvet—some of us prefer to fall asleep AFTER sex, not before 😉
Remember Number 2 who was behind all of Dr. Evil’s plans? He was basically the shit – he pretty much built the starbucks empire while Dr. Evil obsessed over trying to kill Austin Powers.
Like him, I am the brains of soon-to-be-Dr. E’s operations. I write the stories that draw the most hits, and though she may get a doctorate, I will be the successful one.
Renaming is futile; I already have a flask inscribed “#2”.
Velvet: That is just one reason why she likes guys my age. Only thing on our mind is sex and (maybe) one other thing, in my case finding a job. Complaining about D.C. has entered the fray though thanks to you, Sixes, and the entire gang! Can’t thank you all enough.
BTW, but how did your friend’s dog (Annie) turn out? Did she make it out alright?
Number 2 is the Cheney to my Bush.
Sorry, Velvet, we’ll take this elsewhere. When are you & Sexes gonna come visit me & BMW in the Slope? We need to plan a weekend of debauchery!
Ok here’s a shock to the system. The one thing better about DC than California: mass transit. As shitty as Metro is…it’s WAY better than anything (besides BART) that California has. Then again CA has perfected freeways (you easteners call them “highways” or “turnpikes”).
Now there. I said something resembling nice about DC.
Since I’ve moved to Pennsyltuckey my mind wanders like this: “Sex, complaining about D.C., local beer distributor is still open, Sex, complaining about D.C., Dairy Queen, then more sex.”
E – What is Number 2 doing to your bush? I thought he was your brother.