Don’t ‘Go’ Here – New Nadir in Pop Culture

October 23, 2009

By Ebenezette

I thought rock bottom was reached when I was waited on by a waiter talking into his cell phone at the same time as he served; but I now have to state I’ve been subjected to a new low.

The Fatty Crab was a hip little restaurant in the Meat Packing District that got touted by Martha Stewart so it got big enough to open a branch on Broadway at 76th.  Since that’s my neighborhood I thought I’d give it a try, after all, I worship The Martha.

First impression: not so hot.  Uncomfortable seating and close quarters.  But the worst experience was the bathrooms.

The Fatty Crab has two unisex rooms, ill-lit by red light.  First off, I’d like to state that when a woman goes into a restaurant bathroom, usually it is not just to look around.  She is there to accomplish something.  Darkness does not help.

So there I am, attempting to accomplish something in the dark, when a big dog barked at me from out of nowhere.  That made me jump.  Then I realized the barking was coming from a speaker – it was just a weird sound effect.

That would have been annoying enough.  But then the screaming started.  I mean real screaming.  Torture screaming.

So I was stuck in a dark room, that I could not get out of for a couple of minutes at least, and the screaming didn’t stop.

I am feeling outrage now as I type, but interestingly enough, at the time, all I really felt was bored and annoyed.  I was being subjected to one more moron’s idea of ‘hip’. When I told my waiter – the guy in the dirty tee shirt with all the ink on his arms – he just shrugged and said “It’s a tape.” I told him it should stop, but being merely a customer, I assume I was ignored.

I am sad to live in a time when it is almost impossible to go out for a pleasant meal.  It cost me $50 at the Fatty Crab to be the victim of some idiot whose therapy had failed.