The Primi Dilemma

Last night, I went to dinner with Nicola. She tentatively suggested Primi Piati at the Waterfront. Tentatively because she knows how much I despise going there. She explained that the restaurant had undergone a serious revamp, was much bigger than before, and had a great smoking section (believe it or not, us smokers don’t relish the thought of sitting in a 2m x 2m, glass cage, peering through the fug at an indiscernible helping of something on a dinner plate). So, feeling magnanimous, I put my complete contempt for the chain aside, and agreed to the new Primi Wharf experience. After all, it’s the company that makes the night… right?

The food was great! I enjoyed every mouthful of my Pancetta. The smoking balcony was refreshing. And the company was everything I new she would be (okay, we’ve be friends for about four years now, so it goes without saying). So, what’s my problem then? Well, it’s the “vibe of the thing”.

The Staff: seem to be on speed.
The Waiters: and their fast-talking, wildly gesticulating, cliché-quipping and all-knowing-winking ways leave me cold. Do they have to audition for these roles? The faster you do things, the more likely I am to think that you’re going to forget something (like a clean ashtray or Nicola’s second glass of red wine), and if you do it with a bwa-ha-ha laugh, then I’m willing to put money on it.
The Hostess: and her inane attempt to make me feel like a long-lost family member as she lead us to our table, quizzing us about how our days were.
The Manager: really needs to know that being friendly and being my friend are NOT the same thing. Yes, I like it when you smile, but at my expense –we don’t allow customers to eat their pasta with a spoon at Primi (and there’s that wink again)– not so much. It’s not cute. It’s not funny. And it makes me want to dump my bowl of steaming hot pasta in your lap.
The Agent Orange Thing: is a piece of PP history that I hope they want forgotten but I can’t seem to. Agent Orange was emblazoned on the waitrons’ bright jumpsuits. And if I have to explain what is wrong with that picture, then you shouldn’t be reading my blog.

So there we have it: good food and great company vs. a style that I find at the very least irritating… all I can offer is avoidance of the place as much as possible. The only first Primi is getting, is the top of my least liked location for dinner or drinks. Once in a blue moon you might see me there, but not if I can help it, and if you do, then know that my dining companion is well worth the discomfort.