Notice the speech marks. For the love of god, notice the speech marks!
2623 Connecticut Ave
Washington, DC 20008
Got that address? Don’t lose it now. Pass it down from generation to generation of your family and warn them of this place. Don’t let them visit it, don’t let them look at it, don’t let them google pictures of the damn place! They literally didn’t get water right. I’m not even joking their water was gross but I’m getting ahead of myself.
I was only in Connecticut because an aunt had died. Kind of a sad start to the story, I know. Anyway, I was staying at a hotel and after the wake, I was driving back and I pulled up the restaurant because I was finally feeling the appetite that had escaped me at the wake. I walked in, I was seated and I picked up my menu and started reading. But from the wall across from me, something caught my eye so I looked up and found cockroaches, crawling up the wall! I don’t know why I didn’t just get up and leave, I guess they’re right when they say grief does strange things to you because I just watched the cockroaches on the wall for a while and then returned to my menu. I settled on a tuna salad once I realised that they didn’t have pizza and sat patiently and waited. I had quite a long time to wait, something like 25 minutes and I’m not entirely sure why that was because other than myself and the cockroaches, the restaurant was completely empty.
My waitress came and took my order while wearing headphones in one ear. Again, another alarm bell but, I was in a strange place and I let it slide. I was surprised at how promptly my food was delivered to my table but then realised exactly why that was. Their interpretation of a tuna salad was two pieces of iceberg lettuce, one slice of tomato and a can of tuna!!!
I’m not being snobby here. I wasn’t expecting them to go out and harpoon a tuna just for me but this was ridiculous! It was directly out of a can and I knew that because it was still in the shape of the can and it wasn’t cooked! They hadn’t bothered to drain the can so my salad – and I use that term loosely—was 50% soup because it was swimming in the weird, gross, tuna juice from the can. The situation was made worse when I took a sip of water in an effort to fight the rising nausea in my throat and found that the water was stale and tasted like dirt! As a result, I spat the water out, making my salad, 75% soup.
I got up to leave the restaurant that had made my aunt’s death not the worst thing that had happened to me that day, and the previously invisible waiting staff appeared out of the blue! They told me that I could not leave until I paid my $35 bill (hahahahahah). I brushed past the scrawny white woman, got in my car and drove back to the hotel. Thank god for room service!