When I walked through the door I could immediately see the entire attention of the restaurant was pointed directly at me. “What are you doing here?” they asked. An obvious sign of poor service.
As I waited to be seated I noticed the entire place was devoid of any authentic decorations. The only thing covering the peach walls were some tacky family photos. Really the decorations perplexed me more than anything, the place didn’t strike me as an establishment of French cuisine. There must have been a real disconnect between the decorators and the owners of the door.
The next thing that surprised me was the whole kitchen was open. I could see the countertop and the dirty dishes piling up as well as a pile of trash in the corner. Really bizarre. I don’t know how I felt about the waiters either. The waiting staff were all very small and childlike. They asked me different questions than I normally get from waiters. “Who are you?” and “Mommy!”. I found it strange how they called the cook Mommy. I don’t think it works very well for a restaurant.
The next series of events were some of the weirdest I’ve ever experience at a fine restaurant. The cook came downstairs from the upstairs, which was bizarre because I didn’t see any other offered seating. She yelled at me for “breaking into my home”. I tried to explain to her that I thought it was open and that My Home was a stupide name for a restaurant.
In the end I didn’t get a chance to really eat the restaurant’s food because I was arrested. I found it really strange getting arrested. I tried to explain to them that I didn’t want to be arrested but they didn’t seem to care.
I give the restaurant an 8/10.
The police on the other hand only get a 4/10.