Dear Fancy-Pants Restaurant Owner,

I recently dined at Fancy-Pants Restaurant with two friends and feel compelled to share our experience with you. I was looking forward to sampling the best of Toronto at your Fancy Pants Restaurant Location, but unfortunately, not even our most basic expectations were met.

[I decided to get a second mortgage and have dinner at your crazy-expensive restaurant so I could see what all the fuss is about. Judging from the braggy wall photos, Oprah and her Hollywood friends seem to love it. I'm now thinking you accosted them at a Starbucks or Whole Foods to snap those pictures.]

From the moment we arrived, your employees were incredibly rude and condescending. The hostess appeared to be greatly inconvenienced when taking our coats and she proceeded to seat us at the most remote table in the farthest corner of the near-empty restaurant.

[Listen, I can bring out my inner bitch with the best of them; however, this cranky cow took the cake. She made Mad Men's Betty Draper look like Betty White.]

Our waiter was not much better: his overall demeanour—sneering at our questions, rushing us through our courses and apparent relief when we left—was that of someone wishing he (or rather, we) were somewhere else.

[Oh, to be a douche-nugget aspiring actor in Da Big Smoke. Speaking of smoke, we kept waiting for him to offer us a spliff.]

While my meal was excellent, my friend’s rice pasta verged from al dente to crunchy. Instead of ordering a new dish, she waited for our server to enquire about her meal to inform him of her discontent. He never did.

[You think I'm cranky when I don't eat? My friend would have written you a note so bitter as to render you speechless, but I think she ate her pen. FYI, it tasted better than the pasta.]

I was ready to chalk up his contemptuous service to having a bad day until witnessing his transformation when dealing with other guests. In particular, two ladies at the table beside us had our waiter and another employee doting on them throughout their meal while we were virtually ignored. Such blatant and clumsy genuflecting was not only excessive, but also quite embarrassing to witness.

[These lucky bitches were given complimentary cocktails and wine pairings with each elaborate course. It was at this point that I contemplated setting my hair on fire so as to draw attention to our empty wine glasses, but Douche Nugget and his cohort were too busy wedging their hipster-doofus craniums up the other diners' butts to have noticed.]

My companions were visiting from New York and are accustomed to a certain level of service when dining at a restaurant of Fancy Pants Restaurant’s reputed calibre (and frankly, so am I). They could not believe how deplorable your service was. With so many amazing culinary options in Toronto, I was extremely embarrassed and disappointed with our choice.

[We passed an awesome-smelling Shawarma place that would've not only hit the spot, but also left us enough cash for a spa day. On Rodeo Drive.] 

I sincerely hope that you will encourage your staff to make more of an effort to ensure that all customers receive an extraordinary dining experience. My meal was wonderful and if we had been treated with a modicum of respect and graciousness, I would have left confident of my return to Fancy Pants Restaurant. As it is, I now feel obligated to warn people of our unsatisfying experience.

[You were like the gorgeous jock in grade twelve who I finally got to make out with, only to realize he kissed like an epileptic St. Bernard. #epicdiningfail]

Best regards,
[You suck,]

Lori Dyan
[I'm still hungry]

This place is like the nerdy drama geek you should've made out with who grew up to be Ryan Gosling (or Reynolds, depending on your tastes).