Do Not Patronize: Winship Restaurant, Sausalito, California.

On our aforementioned bike ride, we attempted to eat at Winship Restaurant in Sausalito.  It looked like a promising enough place when we arrived.  We waited five minutes or so to be seated, and then Greg went back to the restrooms.

Our booth was one with glass accents above it.  It was one of these, actually:

I placed Ethan in the booth and scooted him along the seat.  He sat there quietly on his bottom, the most mild-mannered toddler ever.  Laurel was doing precisely the same thing in the seat opposite.  That's the key point — THEY WERE SITTING QUIETLY.  We had not even received menus yet, but the fellow who sat us (Waiter? Manager? Owner?  Jackass.) came over and events unfolded something like this:

Jackass:  "If you could, please keep the little ones from touching the glass."

Me:  (speechless, but offended)

Mom:  "Is there someplace else we could sit?  Someplace without the glass?"

Jackass:  "No.  Not really."

Me:  (fully recovered from temporary speech disability) "Then I am certain there is someplace else we can spend our money.  Let's go.  I'll go get Greg."

Jackass:  "Well, if you feel that way.  I thought it was a reasonable request."

Me:  "No, you know what?  It's not reasonable.  Moreover, it is not a good business practice to alienate families.  We would have spent quite a chunk of change here, but you just lost it."

Jackass:  (I don't remember what he said, but it just served to further inflame me and I do remember it was a continuation of argument)

Me:  "You know what?  Just stop talking to me.  Stop talking to me right now."

I went to the restroom area to get Greg.

Jackass approached.

Jackass:  "The restrooms are for paying customers only."

Me: (lighting up like the Fourth of July)  "I will have you know that my husband entered the restroom while he was still laboring under the assumption that we would be paying customers.  You know, before you got all low class on us.  So I will be standing here until he exits the restroom, and then — ONLY then — we will gladly leave.  Asshole."

And so we did.

And on the way out, I noticed that Ethan (in Anita's arms) stuck his hands all over the front door.  Mom quipped that we should take the guy a bottle of Windex.  And I have to admit that Anita and I got all Ozarks and ran our fingers along his glass as we were exiting the restaurant.  Perhaps not my finest moment, but justice was soundly served.

We went next door to the Seven Seas and had a perfectly pleasant meal with perfectly pleasant customer service.

Now, I don't know what kind of establishment Winship thinks it is, but I hate to burst this rube's bubble.  By virtue of being open for lunch in downtown Sausalito, a tourist destination, he's catering to tourists, whether he likes it or not.  With tourists come children.  And if you're too damned lazy to pick up a bottle of glass cleaner and spend two bucks of your time cleaning the glass, choosing instead to sacrifice the windfall in profits you could reap from families, then that is the most dunderheaded business move I have ever witnessed in my entire life.

Not only that, but I'd have felt differently if my children had actually done something offensive.  If my children are misbehaving, then I will be the first to give them the verbal smackdown.  But if my kids are sitting quietly and doing nothing wrong, there had better be NOBODY come up and criticize them for it.  Woe be to they who do, for they will see the hillbilly in me.

And that, my friends, is yet another example of my inner vigilante getting the best of me.  I'm done posting for the evening.