Agatha W.
Yelp
I decided to make the grave decision of dining at the Delta King on Christmas. At the time of making my reservation, I had no inkling this would be a huge mistake. I arrive with my party of 3 at 7 mins early. We approach the host stand, smiles on our faces, explaining our presence: "Hello, Merry Christmas, we have a reservation!" The hostess matches our polite manner with half-hazard spite, etching my name down on a paper waitlist, explaining that we will have to wait for at least twenty minutes.
Pause. A 20 min wait? I expressed my perplexity: "So even though we reserved a table, we have to wait 20 minutes?"
"We are fully booked, I can't just kick a table out, it's Christmas."
I accept this, taking a seat in the lounge area not far from the hostess stand. Next thing, the host is talking sh*t about me, not six feet from where I am currently sat, to her coworker. She mocks our conversation, insulting my party for arriving seven minutes early and expecting our reservation to be reserved, and telling her coworker "I can't magically make a table open up... I'm not SANTA CLAUS! She laughs as frustration, anger, and embarrassment grow inside my feeble mindset.
My party waited patiently for about 15-20 minutes before we were finally sat by the host, who I assume felt embarrassed after we made eye contact right after she made fun of me. We accepted her attempt at redemption. She brought us room-temperature tap water and menus. Over the course of 20 minutes, we were told our server would "be there shortly." Finally, our server, the ONLY redeeming factor of the night, arrived at our table to take our drink and appetizer order, offering to get an appetizer for us on the house.
Redemption. That was on my mind. Maybe a free appetizer could make up for everything that had already transpired. My party and I enjoyed our drinks and appetizer while contemplating what to order, simultaneously wondering what the special was due to our lack of a seasonal menu or explanation of the special. A while later, after asking for bread and witnessing the table next to us receive their main course before any of their appetizers, we placed our orders. Our food arrived after some time. The risotto on the salmon dish was room temperature. The flatbread was cold. The Caesar salad was not dressed.
You get the picture by now. The Grinch stole Christmas.
We managed to eat what we could, accepting our fate. A second round of drinks was ordered as a coping mechanism. Halfway through our dishes we put our forks down, took our hands off the table, and sat there, looking around the dining area with glossy eyes, searching for a single employee to address us. What could help us? We racked our brains, stomachs still hungry. Sugar? Yes, sugar. It had been two hours since we were sat. Maybe, just maybe, dessert would save us. We finally reunited with w our server and ordered dessert. Minutes later, the manager stormed across the dining room, chanting cold demands.
She informed us and the remaining table that it was the last call and that we had ten minutes to get out. A flashback to the hostess overtook my mind. "I can't just kick a table out, it's Christmas." Well, I'll be damned. Here we were, on Christmas, getting kicked out. No one in the dining room had received a check, our dessert, nor had our tables been bussed. Our server brings our mango sorbet, the best-tasting item I have consumed all night. A minute later, our check is dropped on the table. Not only is the appetizer that was rumored to be "on the house" stated on the check, in bold black lettering, but so is a "Christmas service charge" of 22%.
Not only was this "Christmas service charge" undisclosed when we made our reservation, but the "Christmas service" we received included a 20-minute wait on our 7:30 pm reservation, the hostess mocking and making fun of my party in front of our faces, a 20-minute wait to be served cold food, getting booted from the premises before receiving dessert or a check, and the check itself containing items agreed to be taken care of and a 22% surcharge for no apparent reason.
We relate our grievances to our server, who takes care of everything promptly and sweetly, like the Christmas miracle she is. My party exits the Delta King along with the large party that was also formally kicked out, laughing in disbelief of the way we were treated.
And with that, my dining experience at the Delta King came to a close, along with my Christmas, and 2024. If you made it this far, I hope you learned one valuable lesson for 2025 and possibly a new idea for your New Year's resolutions. Do not dine at the Delta King. I know your family might frustrate you, but at least if you make your food at home it will be hot.