Shoot the Duck and Get it Over With

It's probably not
A high-brow establishment
When it's called "The Duck".

Between rehearsals, a bunch of us went to The Golden Pheasant, also known as "The Duck". I'd never been there before, but let me tell you, there's nothing golden about the place. I mean, come on, it's called The Golden Pheasant, but it's logo has a picture that looks suspiciously like Daffy Duck in the early years. Hmmmm.

In any case, upon arriving, Sonya and I had difficulty figuring out how to enter, as one door was clearly a door into the kitchen and the others were distinctly "emergency exitesque" in nature. You know what I mean. Solid, institutional, and should-open-into-an-alley-like. We found our way in (one of the aforementioned doors was, indeed, unlocked) and placed our orders.

As the time ticked away, and the hour of our expected return to rehearsal approached, we became concerned with the fact that there was no sign of food in sight. At all. An hour after ordering quick food like quesadillas and ham sandwiches, there was no food.

No. Food.

Long story short, seeing we had only about fifteen minutes before we had to leave again, we had to ask for our bill, prepay, and ask for our food to be packed to go.

And still we waited.

Tick tick.

And waited.

Tick tick.

And waited.

Tick.

We all knew we would now be late for rehearsal, but we'd paid and everything.

What choice did we have, but to wait?

Tick.

And wait.

Tick.

FINALLY the food arrived, just at the moment we were SUPPOSED to be across town starting rehearsal.

It was absurd.

Needless to say, we will not be going back there. Needless to say, it was not my idea.