I'm not sure what exactly happened at Viet Pearl today, there were no remnants of disaster, but an event of some catastrophic significance had clearly rattled the souls of the employees and sent the general functionality of the restaurant into a rapidly descending spiral.
We stood around the entrance for a while uncertain of wether you seated yourself or not until enough time passed without a greeting, indicating to us that we should just take a table. There was a long wait for the menus to arrive, but luckily we'd already read the one taped to the front window in order to expedite the ordering process. Our waiter seemed a bit frazzled when we requested to order immediately and he stood with his body at an angle, slanted in the direction of the kitchen, prepped for a rapid departure as soon as we would finish listing off the items we wished to consume, a look of deep worry written across his face. We ordered two Pho's, two iced coffee's, and some water. He apologized to us for the wait and said "We are very busy today." Having a busy day at the restaurant is a more than understandable excuse for a bit of delay in service so we told him not to worry about it. Moments later though it dawned on me that there were only about three other tables currently seated, and that struck me as not really being terribly busy at all, and thats when I knew we had just gotten ourselves into some trouble.
After eventually helping ourselves to a bottle of water and a couple glasses from the cooler, we hydrated while awaiting our iced coffees and soups, and I decided to request the Wi-Fi password so I could kill some time on my phone. A second employee stood behind the counter punching hesitantly at a computer screen with a look of true bewilderment. My presence clearly pained him and I could feel the anxiety radiating off his body in waves. Whatever I needed from him was very obviously going to be more than he was ready to handle and I'm sure he prayed for me to go and sit back down, yet I decided to break through the percolating wall of tension he had created and ask him, "Do you know what the Wi-Fi password is?" We locked eyes for several seconds, he was behaving almost as if I were robbing him at gun point, lips quivering, expressing a desire for mercy. I could tell he had bad news and was nervous what my reaction would be, he was trying to find the easiest way to break it to me, and after enough of a delay to make it more awkward than it needed to be, he squeaked out in a low fear addled voice, "We don't have Wi-Fi here." This struck me as odd, because I had noticed the "Free Wi-Fi" sticker on their front door, I had looked up Wi-Fi networks on my phone and found one called "VietPearl Guest", and I had already brought up the page where one would enter the password. I showed him this on my phone. He panicked. He was unwell before this interaction and was visibly doing much worse now. I felt bad for him, but also was curious why he would lie to me about something I could so easily disprove. The other waiter scrambled into the situation panting the word "delicious" in breathless exhaustion, "the password is 'delicious'", he told me. I returned to my seat.
A very long wait ensued. The two waiters clumsily rushed around the restaurant, starting to clear tables but then getting distracted by other chores. I caught the one who had lied to me about the Wi-Fi standing at the front of the restaurant gazing straight ahead in a state of trauma induced paralysis. Eventually our Pho was served, not the iced coffees though, but I reminded him and he seemed to remember. Unfortunately we were not given spoons or chopsticks. I attempted to catch the eye of the more damaged of the two waiters, but he avoided my gaze at all costs and even breezed by some customers who were waiting to be seated on his way out of the building. Had he not returned I would have understood completely, but he was back moments later even more uncertain of what to do with himself. The restaurant was actually busy now by normal standards as well, which was generally terrifying to everyone who had been watching the chaos unfold for the last thirty minutes. We had to find our own spoons and chopsticks.
The Pho was a bit heavy for my taste, the broth was sweeter than I'd care for, and they used the wider cut variety of rice noodles that tend to get soggy quickly. However I wasn't so interested in the food at this point anyways, I wasn't even upset that we didn't get our iced coffee's, I didn't know it when I had walked in, but I was there for the entertainment...and it was plentiful! I watched with mischievous joy as new customers entered and took their seats and ordered their iced coffees, unaware of the mayhem they had just signed up for, unaware that the coffee would not be arriving. It was a flawlessly executed production of pandemonium delivered with painstaking precision upon the public unknowingly and I'm thrilled to have witnessed the spectacle. Four stars read more