Thanks to my stellar status as a Lynx season ticket holder, I wound up with free suite tickets to the Timberwolves game last night. Stephanie picked me up prior to game time and we decided to go have dinner. We wound up going to The Lone Tree Bar & Grill. Jenni, Matt, and I had been there a handful of times for pregame food, and we’d been relatively happy with it: not very busy, really good food, maybe a block from the Target Center, and 2-for-1 drinks. We often refer to it as The Douche Tree based on the clientèle we’ve run into from time to time. Usually, the douchebags haven’t quite made it from their fancy downtown office to the bars by the time we leave, but we always catch a slow trickle of them coming in the door.
Stephanie and I were not so lucky last night. We walked in the door and it took a while to even find a table that was open. Once we did, a server never came over, so I headed over to the bar to pick up a couple of menus. By the time I’d returned to our table with menus, the place had gotten even busier. It was so busy there was a line at the Big Buck Hunter Plus machine in the corner, and that’s serious business at The Douche Tree – almost as serious as Golden Tee, neither of which I understand.
Our server finally came to take our drink orders. Stephanie ordered water, which seemed easy enough. I decided to take advantage of our 2-for-1 situation and partake in a libation or two. I couldn’t remember exactly what fell into the 2-for-1 special realm, so I asked. "Everything on rail and everything we have on tap".
I like taps. So, I asked the next logical question, "What do you have on tap?"
"Just say something and I’ll tell you."
Um. That’s normally not how it works, but okay. And, then, things could have gotten better if she’d, you know, been a good server-type person. But she was pretty horrible, and for all I know, probably didn’t even work there.
She capped it off by combining our tab (which is fine, because we’re good at math!), but when she came back to get our two forms of payment (we’d each thrown down our debit cards), she says, "Oh, I’m sorry. I thought you were together." (It’s only funny if you know the back story, but trust me, it’s hilarious.)
And then we signed our separate tabs:
*It was actually Tuesday night, but I’m a slow writer as of late.