The table was booked for 8pm and we arrived 20 minutes late. We were told that we had to order straight away to compensate for our lateness. Ok, fair enough. But the cunts didn't take our order until 9pm and our food didn't come until 9:45pm. You get the picture! This isn't going to be a pleasant bit of blogging.
The best bit was when my friend was told he couldn't eat because there weren't any tables available. So my friend said it's fine, I can sit on one of those unreserved tables in the bar area. He was told by the stupid fucking cunt of a waitress, that those tables are only for people who are drinking. My friend replied "well of course we will be drinking, and we'll be eating as well". I do love a bit of rudeness from staff, I find it quite entertaining, but she was just a massive Belliendiot (Bell End Idiot which sounds like Billy Elliot).
The unpleasantness of this place has reached a hight which I have never swallowed in my entire dining experience. I love the fact that our group of friends have never encountered anything quite like this, considering we have eaten in such a wide range of restaurants throughout the world from El Buli to Mac Donald's. This schizophrenic dogshit dive is somewhere in-between, but it's head has gone inside-out through it's own anus whist shitting puke. It has a serious identity issue, which is a shame because it could be a great pub, like the Lamb Inn in Sandford, probably the best pub meal going (picture below).
Shoulder and chump of lamb, fonadant new potatoes,
shallot puree, spiced lamb jus - £16 from the Lamb Inn
To be completely fair the food was very good at the Cricket Inn and the manager did his best to accommodate a large group of people. They simply have a waitress with an attitude problem beyond her own vagina and she clearly hates her job and is not very good at it. The predominant clientel in this joint (Retired bankers and there wives, both aged about 65) have roughly 10 years left to live so perhaps the proprietors should start thinking more about the long game and be a little more accommodating.
Sorry, no pictures. These words are all this fucking cunty place are worth and I think I've gone beyond my usual word count. Shit Twats.