I can’t say enough about how RUDE the staff were at this place. Two ladies and myself were nestled into the lounge, delighting in the tasty drinks and how positively grown up we were, when one brute or another came by and asked just how much longer we thought we’d be staying. This was a Friday evening, and the lounge turns into a club at some point. If you’re in there when it happens, you turn into a pumpkin, or a troll will claim your first born, or something. BUT, we went in with the knowledge that we had a full forty five minutes to relax and enjoy each other’s company.
One of our party wanted to take issue with this man’s tone, but I wasn’t up for a fight, and stated therefore, that I would take a quick trip to the bathroom (which had man servants + 3 points!) and we’d take our leave soon after. No sooner than had I settled back into my seat to settle up on the bill, another hired hand was upon us, demanding that we make our departure swiftly. He made some off-handed and ludicrous request, to which I responded: “that is neither classy, nor lady-like, so no, we won’t be partaking, thanks.” Anyplace that makes me whip my hair upon exit, is not worth your time, and we won’t be returning.
*editor’s note: In an effort to chase down Mr. Trey Songz, we returned, and promptly.
Killer Bees < Panty Dropper (duh).