Oh hell no. I've been to Soda many times, and I like it fine, but nothing prepared me for my experience last night. So I got stuck with this awful queen waiter - I'll call him Cuntyqueentay. He had shoulder-length bobbed curly hair and wore palazzo pants with a blousy tunic top: very 'Fame gone to pasture.,' you expected him to pirouette away from you after taking your order. \r
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ANYway, I know I'm being ridiculous with these descriptions, but seriously, Cunty had the stankest attitude. And I mean, I waited tables for three years and can appreciate a bitchy queen. This was not that. Homegirl bitched me out for ordering a drink at the bar (instead of through him), which I only did because I couldn't find him for 20 minutes. Wouldn't make eye contact after that, slamming things down on the table and walking away, shaking his head, after I apologized for not ordering through him. Same with the check, exasperated sighs and eye rolls. I felt like he demanded a diva showdown! You know what? Hated itttt. I left my maraschino cherry in that untouched container of mayo and I've never felt better. Cuntyqueentay, you know who you are.
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