4 Silly Restaurant Reviews From Your Favourite TV Characters

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Café Nervosa – Seattle

I am a frequent visitor to this establishment. Sometimes I’ll make an appearance prior to attending the opera, whereas on other occasions I’ll come at a completely different time, such as after attending the opera.

Nevertheless, I do have one complaint. I’ve noticed that public figures in the café are rarely acknowledged, regardless of whether they are a local celebrity psychiatrist, a renowned radio host or both.

I mean honestly! One doesn’t ask for much, but a little special attention is always nice. Thankfully, I’ve thought of a solution: if on a certain day I flash a particular pre-arranged “sign” to my server—perhaps in front of a new romantic partner or a new radio station owner—employees could feel free to acknowledge/bother me.

I have resorted to this idea only after all other attempts to bring this to management’s attention have led to no tangible results and have, moreover, led to a slight reduction in the amount of foam atop my cappuccino on the day of my suggestion, and atop several cappuccini since.

I do not feel comfortable leaving my full name.

Sincerely,

F. Crane

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Central Perk – New York

Seems like a lot of people have fun here. I’m always hearing lots of laughter, though I can’t really tell where it’s coming from. It almost sounds as if it’s pre-recorded?

I’m not a big fan of the clientele. People don’t tip too well, either. Or, uh, so I’ve heard the employees say. Do the patrons not realize that baristas don’t make as much as, say, paleontologists? There’s this one group of six pals that I’ve never even seen pay. Come to think of it, I’ve never seen them order.

None of these negative comments apply to Rachel, obviously.

Gunther Q.

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Cheers – Boston

CONS: Loud. Everybody shouts when people enter the bar. I don’t see how that man walking in is a novelty anymore, since it’s been the exact same group of people in here every time I’ve come. Don’t they have home lives? Sad, really.

PROS: Woody is so naive that he’ll trust me when I tell him how many beers to charge me for at the end of the evening.

Paul

P.S. I’ve said more in this post than I have in 10 years at the bar.

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Monk’s Café – New York

I eavesdropped on the clientele here for nine years. This one group—the whiny bald guy, the bad-dancing woman with a wall of hair, the “funny” guy with the “observations” about the food, and the tall weirdo who has never once fully sat still—talked non-stop, but I never heard them say anything of substance. In nine years! Not even a commentary on the news. I thought I’d hear one thing I could use in my stand-up, but nothing. I went back one last time, but the finale was the worst visit yet. Guess I’ll have to come up with my own jokes.

Not that there’s anything wrong with that.

Kenny Bania

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