Striking a Blow for the Irish Consumer

It was our 18th wedding anniversary and my husband and I went out to dinner. We found it surprisingly difficult to get a booking but finally managed to get a table in a restaurant in town. I usually go for fish but decided that I needed the iron and ordered a fillet steak. However, when the steak arrived it was sirloin. I felt bad for the waitress thinking that maybe I hadn’t made my order clear and she might now get into trouble. I called her back nonetheless and explained the mistake. She was very pleasant about it and took my plate back to the kitchen. She came back two minutes later but instead of a fillet, it was the same steak as before doubled over. I stared at it and thought, ‘Is there really someone back there in the kitchen who thinks that I am not going to notice this?’
I know that I am not the first to make this observation but the Irish take a lot of crap. We are met daily with sloppy service from surly assistants; charged higher prices than elsewhere in Europe for food and products that are not always of equally high standard and we get fobbed off with laughable excuses as to why things don’t work or someone hasn’t turned up when they said they would. If we dare to complain we are often met with derision and hostility and so, it becomes easier to pay up in silence than to make a fuss about what is rightfully ours. We are more laid back than most nationalities but this has as much to do with our reluctance to rock the boat as it does with our ability to go with the flow. I weighed up my options and decided that this wasn’t worth the indigestion.
The steak was delicious. We passed on dessert and asked for the bill. When it came, we were charged for a fillet steak. I looked at my husband and he looked back at me. I broke the silence. “This has to be sorted. I can do it or you can do it but I’m not leaving until somebody does it.” My husband sighed and asked to speak to the manageress. She came forthwith and listened intently while my husband explained the discrepancy in the bill and the non-appearance of my fillet. When he finished, the manageress switched her attention to me and in a challenging voice said, “But you ate it, didn’t you?” I was so surprised by the question that I laughed but I rallied quickly and said, “Yes, I did. But, I will not pay for what I did not have.” We locked eyes: it was a stand off. She blinked first and turning away from the table abruptly she marched off to correct the bill.
As we left, we bumped into my Aunt Eleanor who told me that she was ‘starving’ after a hard day’s shopping. I recommended the steak. If there was ever a woman who loved a battle it was Aunt Eleanor. We stepped out into the cold, rainy night but I mentally kicked my heels in the air: another blow struck for the Irish consumer.