My heterosexual life partner Glen took me to the Turf Supper Club to grab some drinks and possibly some food. When we got there, the place was not too full, but there was a wait and open bar. So we took the bar. After sitting at the bar for about 10 minutes having a round beer, the hostess came to us and told us our table was ready. I didn’t remember asking for a table, but I thought maybe Glen did without me noticing. So I just followed and went to the table.
The waitress was very friendly and took our orders within a very reasonable amount of time, and our raw steaks came our table pretty quickly too. Each steak came with a large piece of buttered bread. With our steaks in our hands, we then made our way the grill.
There was really no order to the whole grill. It was pretty much like looking for a parking space in a busy parking lot. Find an open space and take before some one else sees it. We each found our own openings and plopped our steaks on them.
Glen told me that this is how steak houses used to be. I’m not buying it. I’m not buying it. I think it’s just a clever gimmick to save on payroll, and most of the scenesters there are just about pretentious and dumb enough to buy it too. Even if it is true about the whole grilling your own steak being the original way, there is a reason most steak houses do not incorporate this method anymore. Most people do a terrible job.
I honestly am not a good griller or cook and would rather leave that to the professionals. That’s generally why I go to a restaurant. So somebody with a little more expertise can prepare my food. That being said, it was fun and my steak surprisingly turned out a nice medium rare. I just watch what everybody else was doing and followed suit. I saw some people toasting their buttered bread too. So I did the same. It turned out pretty good.
I found most of the patrons around the grill were pretty nice and engaging. A few of us talked about Foreigner and Journey and how they both have new singers now. One woman mentioned how she was totally in love with the original singer of Foreigner. She then sadly informed me that he now sported a beer belly and could hardly get through a song, which was why they got a new singer. It was an enlightening experience.
After eating our steaks, the hostess came over to our table and said to us, “You’re lucky.”
To which Glen and I replied back with a “why.” According to her, we stole somebody named Carlos’ table. Apparently, she told Carlos and his friend that we stole the table from them too, which explained the young Latino gentleman lurking near our table with a sour look on his face.
I told Carlos, who was standing next to our table, that we were sorry. However, that didn’t satisfy him. He pretty much brushed me off with a kind of “yeah, whatever” gesture with his hands.
She said when she notified us that our table was ready she started out by asking us if any of us was a Carlos. I do not remember this at all. I really don’t appreciate a hostess making a mistake and then pinning it on us. The fact was both of us never heard her ask any of us if we were Carlos, because she did not do that. That was total BS. We took the rap for her mistake. Neither Glen nor I even look like a Carlos.
Should we have questioned her when she initially showed us to our seats? Probably, but after having a few drinks at home and a drink at the bar, we really weren’t in the questioning mode. We were in the go with the flow mode.
Overall, the experience was fun. The steaks were really yummy and the atmosphere was nice. Grilling your own steak at a steakhouse is something everyone should try at least once. As for Carlos, well we just laughed off the whole Carlos incident, because it made the night more interesting. Without Carlos, the night would not have been as fun. Although, I don’t think Carlos would agree.
