“Eat your fucking lettuce,” the waiter said, thrusting my emptied breakfast plate back at me. This isn’t normally what you’d expect from your waiter, but this isn’t a normal café. This is the Elbow Room on Davie Street. Their motto: “Food and service is our name, abuse is our game.”
If you’re from Vancouver, you probably know all about the Elbow Room. It’s the only place (that I know of) where the serving staff will freely berate the patrons. It’s all very good-natured yet surreal at the same time.
I’m not big on the insults, but the food is absolutely amazing. I had the BC Benny — two English muffins, cream cheese, smoked salmon, two poached eggs, and hollandaise, all on a bed of lettuce. Mmmmm, hollandaise. I’m drooling at the memory of it.
Anyway, I managed to avoid eating the lettuce on the grounds that it was too healthy and avoided the waiter’s ire. Presently, the people at the next table got into a mock squabble over the tip, with expletives flying, at which point Sabine pitched in with “Oh, you’re offending my virgin ears!”
Without pause, he shot back, “That’s about the only part of you thats still a virgin!”
Well, Sabine may have lost that little exchange, but she can trade insults with the best of them. She gets along best with the smoking, tattooed, soccer-playing guys in Japan. She must be a real shock for the traditional types there.
The people next to us finished the dregs of their coffees, and waiter came back, bellowing “You’re done. Get out.”
After a few more expletives, they settled the bill and left, at which point I noticed that they had left a little note on their table, scribbled on a matchbook: “This is your FUCKING tip!!” (with little happy face.)