I want to start by saying that I love supporting local businesses. I go out of my way to eat in local restaurants to shop is small local stores and even frequent many local farms. With all of the big chains and franchise moving in it becomes harder and harder for local establishments to make it. With all of the competition coming down on their small shoulders the one thing that all of these small mom and pop businesses have in common is the personal touch. It's the ability they have to integrate themselves into the communities they belong too.
With that being said I have never in my life been so upset after having to deal with the owner of one of these businesses.
Saturday evening after having spent six hours in the hospital with my mother we decided to head to The Fireside, a restaurant we have been to more times than I can count. We enjoyed our meal and before leaving I ordered a piece of baklava to take home, something I have done many times in the past.
When we got back to my mother's house and I went to place the styrofoam container on the kitchen table I notice that my gloves where covered in something sticky. I didn't think much of it threw them on the table and moved to take off my wool jacket. It was then that I noticed that there was more of the sticky syrup on my coat.
When I looked down I was stunned. Everything I was wearing was covered in syrup. I was confused at first I couldn't figure out what was happening. From the waist down I was a mess my new wool coat and new boots, my pants, my Coach wallet and purse inside and out, and even my iPhone, not to mention the floor from the front door to the kitchen and even the dog where all dripping with this substance.
When I looked back up I noticed that the little styrofoam container was sitting in a pool of the same syrup. Walking over and popping the lid open I saw that this tiny little one inch triangle of baklava is sitting in what had to be at least a cup of syrup, and that's not including the amount I was wearing.
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hocked and at a loss as to what to do at this point, I decided to call The Fireside and explain my sticky situation. I'm honestly not sure what I expected to accomplish but I can tell you that whatever I was hoping for is a long way off from what I got.
A woman answered the phone and I began to explain my predicament. Her reaction was what I expected; shocked and sympathetic. She told me that the owner was there and asked if I would like to talk to her. Of course I said that would be great. This is where events went sort of wall eyed, before she even took the phone I could hear her speaking to the first women and the words that passed over the phone floored me.
"Well what does she want, it's not my problem, I'm not responsible." Words that I still hear running threw my head. I was appalled. I haven't even spoken to her yet and she already doesn't care what I have to say.
The conversation only went downhill from there. Some of the highlights include her insisting that I was lying because the baklava "always" comes in a bag; I can assure you there was no bag. Her asking me what I wanted her to do, fire all of her staff? Or my personal favorite "I have been here for 80yrs and people love me, I don't have to do anything, and there isn't anything you can do about it!"
There were so many gems just like these ones over our 25min battle of wills, during which she continued to belittle me and accuse me of lying, all while calling me "honey." Honey, that's exactly what I had too. Honey from one end of my mother's house to the other. Honey on the dog, honey on my coat and boots and phone. I had had enough.
Her last statement is an interesting one though, not to mention being false on so many levels, it got me thinking. First the restaurant in question is NOT 80yrs old not even close. Second there is something I can do. I can let people know. I can let all of you know that the people who run this restaurant who claim to care about this community don't actual give a damn, after all by her own admission she doesn't have to. They also don't have any accountability for their actions and don't want too.
Now like I said earlier, I wasn't sure what I was expecting when I called, some sympathy and at most a free meal, which I probably would have forgotten about anyway. What I got however was far less. Add that to the cost of my dry cleaning, my dog grooming and a new phone, it was a very expensive dinner and quite frankly it wasn't good enough to be worth it.
If you're like me and try to support the local sense then my I suggest that you try any of the other wonderful local restaurants we have in Welland and give The Fireside a taste of its own indifference! read more
