Arnon Grunberg

Smirk

Coats

On Saturday night, I went to restaurant Zuid Zeeland in Amsterdam together with my girlfriend.
I used to go to this restaurant quite often, but I didn't recognize any of the staff.
I said to one of the waitresses: “Hotel Ambassade just called to make a reservation. A table for two.” “Who called?” she asked.
“Hotel Ambassade,” I said.
“Oh.” She looked at my girlfriend and me. “Can I take your coats?” “Not my coat,” I said.
I wasn’t wearing a coat.
Since it was a beautiful evening I asked: “Can we have a table outside?” “Yes,” the woman said. “It will be a few minutes, grab the small table outside and I will set up the big table. What do you want to drink?” I ordered a glass of white wine and OJ.
We got half a glass of white wine and even less OJ.
“Perhaps we don’t have to pay for this,” the girlfriend said. “That’s why we get so little.” It took a while before the table outside was ready, to be precise almost an hour, and then a family with two children sat down at the table. Another waitress gave me a smirk.
When I’m in a restaurant to have dinner I don’t leave the restaurant before I've had dinner, but this time I decided to be unfaithful to my dogma.
I went inside to pay for the OJ and the white wine.
“Are you dissatisfied?” the waitress asked rather aggressively.
“I’m perfectly happy,” I answered, “but I really have to go now.” She gave me a dirty look. “Well, the wine and the OJ are on us.” I’m pretty sure I will never return to Zuid Zeeland.

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