On Friday night, Jen and I had the fortune of dining at one of downtown Portland’s soon to be finest restaurants. It’s called RPalate, and was founded by a veteran chef, a recent culinary school graduate and a waiter unlike no other I’ve ever met in my life.
The restaurant was recommended to me by my friend Jay, who called its happy hour simply amazing. And since the happy hour lasted from 4-7pm, it made for a perfect dinner date. Jen is cheap that way.
We arrived at 6:30. Our friendly waiter brought out the dinner menu. When I asked him whether he could also bring us the happy hour menu, he informed us that sadly happy hour ended at 7pm. But he’d go check in the kitchen.
Our friendly waiter came back to our table just a couple of minutes later and said: Yeah, I am very sorry…we ended the happy hour at 7pm.
According to Jen my facial expressions turned rather uneasy when I informed our friendly waiter that it was 6:30pm. I am fairly certain that my facial expressions were rather dull compared to our waiter’s facial expressions when he looked at my watch.
His words were as follows:
“F..k. Seriously??? Only 6:30. It feels like nine. We’ve been here all day long, three of us, the other front guy got fired and I had a full lunchroom today. ”
He then started to apologize profusely before completely cracking up. Our dinner ended up being fantastic, I made a new friend and found my new favorite restaurant.
The evening ended with our waiter putting two glasses of Whiskey onto the table and the words “That’s for 6:30.”
Go to RPalate. The food is great and very reasonably priced and you won’t find a funnier waiter anywhere. Sometimes inexperience is beautiful.