Restaurant Wrath - Episode 1: Oakham Cafe

Oakham House. A lovely example of the magnificent historical architecture downtown Toronto retains, interspersed between soaring office towers. This building, located in the Ryerson vicinity on Gould St. just off Church, would be the perfect spot for students looking to hang out, study, grab a decent bite to eat, and generally enjoy what little spare time they have.

The Oakham Cafe, nestled inside Oakham House, appears to offer just that. Tastefully decorated in warm woods and spring colours, relaxed and quiet, it beckons the tired student seeking refuge. A piano near the entrance hints at playfulness. Games and books are available in bookshelves for the bored patron. And the menu - unexpectedly excellent, with vegetarian, vegan, and halal dishes, organic teas, espresso drinks, and insanely cheap prices.

However, Oakham Cafe has earned my eternal wrath. This makes me sad beyond belief, as they could be SO much more. Indeed, I've even given them multiple chances to redeem themselves, given they are largely a student/campus operation (and thus, I hardly expect perfection). Nonetheless, the past three times I've gone in, I have received - to be frank - the second-most terrible service I have ever encountered.* This is mainly due to the efforts of one waiter in particular (though I've received lazy or negligent service from other wait staff on prior occasions as well). The "guy in charge" appears to be friendly, nice, and efficient, and I have no quarrel with him. However, he mainly lingers behind the cash register, and doesn't appear to wait the tables.

Before I launch into a description of the offending waiter's conduct, I should establish that I am not a demanding customer. I am polite, patient, understanding, and generally friendly when I dine. I never send food back, complain, or otherwise act in a provocative manner. I smile and thank the staff for everything they bring. I even attempt to tidy up after myself when I'm finished. I tip quite generously, typically leaving 5 dollars on any bill under 30 bucks, and upward from there. If I have been served phenomenally, I will leave even more.

Despite my consistently polite behavior, the offending waiter's attitude was abrupt, cold, and impatient. All of his instincts as a waiter were entirely wrong. The first time I encountered him, he immediately forced me to move to a smaller table, even though the Cafe was deserted. On two separate occasions, he pressured me into returning my menu despite my expressing wishes to order more food/coffee later (Note: the menus are fucking pieces of paper - and they have 50-someodd copies sitting on a shelf near the register).

Twice he brought me my bill before I was finished ordering food. I like to space out my food while I study rather than order everything at once - you know, get a bowl of soup, later maybe some hummus dip or a slice of pie, a few latte's or cups of tea. Nothing outrageous or unreasonable. In general, I don't appreciate being brought my bill before I ask for it. It's rude, and it makes the diner feel pressured to vacate (which, again, makes no sense in a Cafe which is typically half-empty). During extended stays, he would also leave me sitting for long periods of time without checking to see if I needed anything else.

The straw that broke the camel's back was the last time I went in. I seated myself at a small table very close to the register, where the staff could easily spot me. I opened my laptop and waited for a menu. 15 minutes passed, and nobody acknowledged my presence. I even attempted to make eye contact with the three employees on hand, but they were far too busy socializing to notice. After 15 minutes, a young girl came in and sat down. The offending waiter immediately greeted her and brought her a menu. Enraged, I packed up my laptop and left without saying a word.

I will not be returning.

*The first-place prize goes to a gas station diner in Upsala, Ontario, along the Trans-Canada. Here, an aging waitress actually flung silverware on our table and generally radiated pure hatred at James and I. I'm not sure why, but we think it might be because we asked what kinds of food they served, and what they cost.