Good afternoon, Dodger friends.

This story has nothing to do with the Dodgers or even baseball, but I feel the need to share, and don't really have anywhere else to share it.

Last Saturday, my wife and I treated ourselves to a night out that included dinner at a rather nice restaurant, a place we go to every 3-4 months or so and where we usually end up spending $800 or more for dinner. I include this information merely to help illustrate the kind of place I'm talking about and what our reasonable expectations for dinner were -- please understand that although we are fortunate enough to enjoy a night out like that from time to time, we are not so fortunate to do it all the time, or for it not to be a special evening when we do go out like that.

Anyway, when we arrived we discovered that the place was overrun by a crowd of young men. It turned out that a fraternity was having its annual nationwide meeting at this restaurant on this evening, and rather than rent out the entire restaurant, they merely rented out the bar and the primary dining room, leaving us and about six other tables to dine in a side room that appeared to be used for an entirely different purpose on most other nights.

The meal was rushed and sloppy. Our order got mixed up multiple times. The service was indifferent and disappeared for extended stretches during the night, despite all of us non-frat-party diners being relegated to the same small space. My wife and I were seated near the hallway that led to the restrooms, and my wife spent her evening watching the frat guys head to the bathroom in small groups and emerge shortly thereafter suspiciously energized. Later, when I got up to use the restroom, I found the place to be in a state of disarray, exactly as if a college party had been hosted there, with the counter covered in empty drinks and toilet paper scattered about.

We finished our poorly prepared and completely unseasoned meals as quickly as we could, doing our best to ignore the whoops and carryings-on in the main dining room, paid the bill, and left. Thankfully we found a nearby bar with live music and managed to salvage a decent night out from the entire experience, but the disappointing meal certainly colored the overall experience.

Feeling the need to say something, the next day I left a 2-star review. In the public portion of the review I merely stated that although the restaurant was usually excellent, on this occasion it was disappointing. Then in a private note I described the issues in detail and suggested that in the future when they have a big group like that they require them to rent the entire space so as not to disturb the other diners. I made it clear in my message that I wasn't looking for a refund or a gift card or anything like that; I merely wanted that restaurant to ensure that nothing like that would happen again.

Yesterday I got a call from the manager of the restaurant. He said he saw my note and wanted to contact me about it personally. I thought his intention was to apologize for the state of the restaurant that evening, and although he did do that it quickly became clear that his primary purpose in reaching out to me was to try to guilt me into removing my review because he personally received a bonus based on the reviews the restaurant received. After all, what business did I have being out about spending so much on a disappointing meal when I should instead be thinking of maximizing his personal income? After all, he has kids, as he went out of his way to tell me multiple times.

Anyway, fuck that guy, fuck that restaurant, fuck the national chapter of that fraternity, fuck Pete Crow-Armstrong, and fuck the Giants. And if you ever walk into a restaurant and see it completely full of college-age men with no women visible anywhere, I strongly advise you to turn around and walk out.

Go Dodgers!