Last night I found myself in a new predicament. After months of happy cashless existence; I got in a pickle over the bill for dinner with friends. It got awkward.
After a typically slow-paced Sunday, it got to about 6pm and my two housemates and good friend decided it was time to eat. Due to the wonderfully frustrating and odd Sunday shopping laws in the UK we were unable to cook for ourselves and forced to leave the house in search of nutrition.
Never failing to impress, our only real considered choice was the local Vietnamese restaurant further up the road in Victoria Park. (It is really, really good by the way, if you are ever in the area go to Namo).
By the time we got there we were bloody ravenous and I could have quite easily found myself picking off strangers’ plates if we’d been sat closer.
Due to said hunger, we all put mid-month budgets aside and went crazy with a starter and a main course… renegade, I know.
Fortunately, an in depth and ethical debate kicked up amongst the four of us about the sustainability and conservation of sea life, especially the mass fishing of critters like prawns. That meant that, by the time the prawn crackers (18% of which is prawn by the way) arrived, two of our diners had talked themselves out of being able to eat them leaving twice as many for myself and another less moralistic co-patron.
Awesome, apparently absolutely unethical, tasty but utterly satisfying; I was looking forward to my starter.
My starter was a equally exclusive, [100%] prawn summer roll or four. Strike two but the scornful looks from across the table were no deterrent against the almighty rumble of my stomach.
One of the things I like most about Namo is how quickly one course will follow another. It is crazy-fast. The moment we had all put down our choice of eating utensils (chop sticks for some, spoons for others) down our plates were cleared only to be replaced immediately with our main courses.
Round two. Go!
Whilst no one had a problem with my ginger and lemongrass chicken with coconut rice beyond the odd combination, they all had their own food and I noshed my way through another helping of eastern-themed goodness.
An executive decision was made that dinner would be adjourned before desert and we’d pick up a couple of pots of Ben and Jerry’s on the way back to mine to be enjoyed in front of a good movie.
The bill arrived in as little time as each of our courses and, thankfully, the four-strong diner party aren’t the type to quibble over £1 here or £2 there and would rather just split the bill fairly and be done with it.
Three cards and a £20 note found their way onto the little tray thing. (I still smirk to myself when the number of cards out number the cash in these situations!)
Without going into why, suddenly it became two cards and a £20 as one guest was picking up the tab for two. When the waiter came to settle up the bill was split by four and the first card was charged for twice that sum.
As I was in the middle of a conversation I hadn’t even realised that I’d handed the waiter a card that was recently blocked after I managed to submit my PIN ‘wrong’ three times in a row.
By the way, whilst we are on this, I didn’t. Tesco screwed up. I have no way of backing this up other than saying; I’ve had the same PIN for over 10 years.
There was a mild kafuffle and standard embarrassing remarks from the rest of my table as I made the above excuse and handed the waiter, PDQ at the ready, another card.
Still in a flap, it wasn’t until the payment had gone through that I realised he had charged me for two people’s share as well as the other cardholder. He then strolled off with the £20 only to return, red-faced and apologetic, moments later.
To him the problem could be resolved easily; I take the £20 and we are all even. Little did he know I was a far more awkward client than that! The entire situation broke down into fits of giggles and quasi-explanations from the four of us whilst the poor man stood, confused wanting to give the bloody £20 to anyone that would take it.
Finally, as one of my housemates already owes me for a night out a week or so prior, it was decided that she would take the £20 and would then transfer it and the rest of the outstanding money by Internet banking when she gets a moment.
That, by all accounts, is quite a long way round to resolve a pretty simple problem. The only thing that bugs me is that it really wouldn’t be if I used cash!
But what would have happened if we all paid by card? I have absolutely no idea if a restaurant can reimburse a card transaction there and then. Can they?
1 Comment
July 20, 2009 at 5:31 pm
Hi – just came across your blog. Will be back to read your story in full soon!