NOT SHIRT NO SHOES - NO SERVICE - OH AND DO NOT SELF-SEAT!!

Fettit and I went out to lunch today. We do this every Sunday, but today, instead of being served margaritas, warm chips and salsa, we were treated to attitude and rudeness.

We are always on the lookout for the best margarita in town, or at least the latest one, and willing to try new places, but today when we went to the Tempe Marketplace, a new mega-shopping complex not far from the house, all we got was heaping helping of ire and disappointment.

Driving into the shopping center we spotted a sign for the San Felipe Cantina which intrigued us Margaritas and Mexican food. I've been fighting the flu so I haven't been drinking but the lure of a good margarita and some chips and salsa is all it took for me to drive the parking lot for 10 minutes searching for the ideal parking spot.

As we enter the restaurant I noticed that it was not busy. There were two tables inside that were occupied but most of the business was on the patio - exactly where we wanted to sit.

We stood at the hostess stand for a few minutes, well probably several seconds, and no one ever approached us so we walked over to the bar and asked if there was a host/ess seating people. The beautiful blond bartender told us yes but she didn't see her, so she handed us menus and sent us on our way to the high top patio table of our choice.

After being ignored for 15 minutes, with waitresses circling like buzzards but never landing, Fettit decided to go to the bar to get our margaritas - infuriating me.

As I watched him at the bar, waiting for our drinks. I got more upset by the minute and I knew I couldn't sit still any longer.

I pass him on his way back to the table as I am going to the hostess stand to request a manager.

Once at the front desk, I am again ignored for a couple of minutes, probably 45 seconds, until the two young ladies in front of me decide to stop talking. The hostess turned around and asks "how many in your Party?' I tell her where I am sitting, on the patio, right side, corner table, and ask to see a manager and she instantly glazes over and the demon hostess-bitch from hell takes over.

Snottily, with hand on hips, she snaps "Did you self seat?" "No,” I snapped back and retreated toward our flouted table.

The hostess was obviously annoyed by me and as I turned on my heels and sturdily started marching back to my table I knew I may have been party to, or perpetrated, the ultimate hostess crime.

In her eyes I had "self sat." I had been so bold as to pick my own seat, without being escorted by a hostwench.

Several minutes passed, and I endured the hostwenches looks of dread from across the restaurant, along with the extended glares of her co-workers, but yet no manager came to the table.

Finally, a five minutes after my meeting with hostesstien, the manager arrived.

I knew the second I laid eyes on him and his casual "I'm chill" demeanor that I wasn't going to find a sympathetic ear.

I explained that we had been sitting for 15 minutes while several employees passed our table and that in order to get a drink we had to go to the bartender directly.

The first thing from the manager's mouth, "Did you self-seat?"

My first impression confirmed, I knew there would be no satisfaction.

The manager mumbled something and then asked if we were ready to order to which I said, "no."

We never want to be rushed at a restaurant but we do like to be acknowledged - you know - I'm so sorry - I’m really busy right now and will be with you in a second.

Seems pretty simple to me – just acknowledge we are in your station.

No one ever came to our table for another 15 minutes, not even a look in our direction until, as I was talking to Fettit about their lack of service, the Bride of Chucky hostess approached without me seeing. As she placed the chips and salsa on the table, after overhearing me complaining, she felt the need to respond.

"Well" spewing venom she snidely spat, "you self sat," to which I responded, "no, we did not seat ourselves or else we wouldn't have menus. And by the way, you are very rude."

Ensuring she got the last word, she sneered, "No, you are rude" and continued on her way.

Even prior to my altercation with the unpleasant, uber-bitch hostess I was upset with the lack of attention from the wait staff, and lack of interest from the manager... Don/Sean/John, whatever it was, but this was the breaking point.

A few minutes later, after deciding to leave, the manager came back and I filled him on everything that had recently transpired. This time, unlike the first time, he was apologetic. I even told him that that I would be writing a letter of complaint to the web address on the menu.

Sean/John/Don offered to buy our margaritas but I told him we had gone to the bar to get them and paid already. He asked if we wanted two more but we declined (although in the back of my mind I was softening.)

He "confided" to us that they were short staffed because half of the crew was out at the Renaissance Festival (after having come in for breakfast), and that it was hard to find decent workers who took their responsibility seriously and didn't come to work hung over from the night before.

I guess after a few minutes of intimacies he felt we were buddies, and I allowed him to believe it, but it certainly didn't make up for the lack of service. What did intrigue me was the thought of the free margaritas, but when I asked Fettit if he wanted another he just gave me that knowing look and said, "No, we are leaving."

On a brighter note, we did end up at one of our favorite restaurants...Julio's in Scottsdale. Fettit had the fish tacos (the closest he will ever come to fish) and I found strength in my spinach enchilada.

There is a lesson here to be learned though.

Along with:

Thou Shall Honor Thy Mother and Father
Though Shall Keep the Sabbath Holy
Thou Shall Not Steal
Though Shall Not Kill

Do Not Jay-Walk
Always Use Your Blinkers
Do Not Pass on the Right

Never Leave the House in Dirty Underwear

I learned

DO NOT SELF-SEAT

I’ve sure I will be using it often.