Went out for lunch with a friend. Usual area with normal height tables and chairs was full, so we were shown to low tables and armchairs area. Or as I like to call it, the ‘lean back, loll and intermittently launch yourself at a cup of coffee’ area. Not happy.
Don’t like eating with my knees up by my ears, whilst simultaneously balancing a plate of food on them. Don’t like having to cut up food whilst trying to avoid leaning too heavily on the plate, over-balancing it and cascading its contents everywhere. Don’t like trailing my boobs through the food whenever I lean forward to pick up my drink. Particularly don’t like my spare tyre and muffin top nestling on my thighs, fighting for supremacy and trying to convince me to buy clothes in a bigger size…
Asked waitress if we could move. She shook her head then tried to reassure us that the tables were new, not as low as the previous ones and perfectly fine to eat at. Then she walked away – smiling smugly. Perfectly fine for Yoda or a Smurf perhaps, but for human sized customers? Not so much.
We looked down at the table – it didn’t even reach our knees. Friend and I
sank into sat down on armchairs then quickly climbed back out again. In a rather exasperated manner we glanced at each other, harrumphed loudly then looked around to see if any ‘normal’ sized tables & chairs had become available. No.
We perched on the edge of our armchairs – like stealth coffee drinkers ready to launch at a second’s notice – and waited. The minute two people looked as if they were on the verge of departing (scraping back their chairs) we shot over. Asked them if they were going, grinned when they said they were, stepped politely aside to let them out (not too far in case anyone else had been casing their table) and plonked ourselves down. Success.
Waitress looked over and glared. She then attempted to take our order without actually speaking to us.
She was not happy. We, on the other hand, were ecstatic.
Who knew going out for lunch could be so fraught?