Let me preface this personal essay by saying I never thought I would be this person. I despise obnoxious Yelp reviewers and have a hard time reading through most of them. HOWEVER: the fact that California, Australia, and the rainforests of the Amazon are burning/being felled to the ground while Black Forest Brooklyn continues to collect checks is truly marvelous. MANY props to the people who had the foresight to sacrifice some animal or innocent siblings to a Bavarian demon or someone in Fort Greene Park to keep this place going.
When I got here tonight, it was quiet. An 8-year-old couldn't get a Mike's Hard Liquor buzz off the energy of the patrons. But after the person at the front showed me to the bar (I was eating alone), he disappeared. 'Should I just reach into his stand and grab a menu?' I wondered. 'No,' I decided. 'That would be rude.'
When he reappeared, he apologized--the bartender was apparently in the basement doing stuff--but it was fine. I REALLY don't like to give people a hard time when there may be things going on that I don't know about. When the bartender returned at some point, she made my drink and put it at the end of the bar. I watched it sit there, KNOWING it was mine but it was not brought to me.
'Should I grab it myself from the service pick-up area?'--but I decided against it. Again: 'That would be rude.' So I asked a different server if the unclaimed gin and tonic was mine.
"No," she said, even before checking the slip properly.
"No worries," I said. (I said that a lot tonight!) But, surprise: After walking away with the drink, she circled back. "Oops! It is yours!"
'No worries,' I thought to myself. 'Don't be *that* person.'
My food eventually came. I had to ask for napkins. I had to request silverware. I gorged on cold fries and a burger aspiring to room temperature. The bartender made a comment to the person who showed me to the bar about how "busy it was!" every time she stepped away even though it was quiet when she found her way back to the bar.
'No. WORRIES,' I thought, my head still down. I REALLY didn't want to be DIFFICULT and I knew the expression on my face would curse someone out. 'It's not that serious. Just eat your food and go.'
I ate quickly and asked for the bill. I've dined out with people who are truly mortifying--demanding for full refunds from the manager on meals they've already made their way through, wanting to be comped because there wasn't enough avocado. I can't stand it. And I've worked in food service at busy restaurants and know how much it sucks to get a bad tip on an off day. So, my compromise from my usual 20+% tip was 18%. Then I went to 15% because fuck it. I often tip extravagantly for the most BASIC things because I know the stereotypes about black people and tipping. HOWEVER, tonight, I suddenly felt the resentment of a thousand ex-romantic partners about the fact that I always tip like the money can't be debited from my account fast enough just because I don't want people to stereotype future black diners. I get that enough from the Democratic party--taken for granted and manipulated all at the same time.
Unfortunately, as I put my coat on, the bartender returned to her conversation in Spanish with another one of the other staff to complain about the attitude of the patrons--the point being that I was a prime example. Apparently, I hadn't smiled at any point! I mysteriously wasn't in a mood to be friendly! But here are several things: I'll be damned if I repeatedly give every person a pass at every point of contact and then am spited for not emptying my wallet. I will not toss a coin to my Witcher for some bull. Just take your cut of the 15% at the end of the night and go back to the basement.
Additionally: It is dumb AS HELL in the year of our lord 2020, in New York City, to run your mouth about people in Spanish. A very good percentage of the people walking around know what you're saying. I did. And I said so.
The guy the bartender was talking to had the startled embarrassment of a deer half-dead on a windshield to laugh uncomfortably and declare, "She speaks Spanish!" and then, say "...Really sorry!" The bartender said nothing.
There is no point to this diatribe. I am but another self-righteous reviewer impersonating the Kermit-typewriter GIF. I know that Beelzebub has already been given his sacrifice in exchange for keeping this restaurant going and contributing to the local economy. But I had time tonight and might as well give one star for the gin that fueled this review. read more