Bitten by the hand that feeds you

Last week the Diary was treated to lunch at the Century Club, the private members club beloved of many a meedja type. The Diary enjoyed the club’s fine fare but sadly, its host didn’t.

As the Diary’s lunch date tucked in to his starter, he came across a sharp piece of transparent plastic in a crab cake. Naturally horrified, he informed the waitress who duly informed her manager.

The manager asserted, as was already noted by the table, that the plastic was from a cup – but, he said, no such cups were used on the premises. He had spoken to the chef; all food is prepared in the kitchen from scratch, so the find was suspicious.

The Diary and its fellow diners were bemused at the manager’s reaction. He appeared to be insinuating that the Diary’s host had smuggled the shard of plastic into the club.

Nonetheless, he deducted the starter from the bill and left it at that. Not so the host, who was far from happy and nor it seems was the restaurant owner.

When the “plastic peril” called the restaurant to take the matter further, the owner apologised about how the incident had been handled and sent a bottle of champers by way of further apology.

Let’s hope the manager is a little less crabby and disingenuous the next time a customer has genuine cause for complaint.

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