No Ang Moh, No Entertaino

Da Paolo Bistro Bar is striked off my list from now on.

I'd rather visit the yucky LJS then step foot in that place again.

It was supposed to be a birthday celebration for Damien and I was running out of cool places to celebrate. That's the sad part about living in Singapore, you see where there's a limited number of hip and happening places to be at. They're either TOO popular where you need to book a year or ten in advance or they are closed for good because the rental is ridiculous to sustain. And you can't possibly move northwards for more choices because robbers and drug addicts are running rampant on the streets, waiting to spring surprisers on poor unsuspecting you, threatening to jap you with the HIV virus unless you give them 2 bucks. And I mean in their currency. Which probably can't buy us a bowl of noodles here.

But anyway,

It was a horrible experience.

And mind you, I had been warned about their service beforehand so I actually went prepared.

At this point in time, I'd have to apologise to Daphne. Sorry girl, but I think Da Paolo sucks hardcore. Its probably just me.

I also have to apologise to Damien for not being able to celebrate his birthday in style.

So now, I shall bitch.

It started off pretty badly anyway. Damien and I were lingering in the front, just waiting for someone to notice us, which was pretty sad because
1) There was someone right in front conveniently ignoring us.
2) Another person walked right past us.

Look, I'm not the tallest person on Earth but I'm not THAT short either for you NOT to notice my presence.

"Excuse me!" If they can't see me, I'd make sure they hear me.

Thankfully they did. At long last.

A human being decided that she can't ignore both of us any longer. "Please hold on," she said and struts off to the other end of the bar, leaving the both of us to WAIT again.

6 rounds of recairnation later, we finally got seats (after human being decided to first serve the person who came AFTER us). And guess what? We had to WAIT for the menu. Human being led Person-Who-Came-After-Us to the table and passed them the menu and we got nothing can! I'm not even asking you to walk me to the fucking table but at the very least, gimme a goddamn menu!

Again, i had to ASK for the menu.

When God or some wise ass said 'ask and thou shalt be given', i wonder if it applies to situations like this.

Overall, the service sucked big time, probably because my hair is black from the top of head all the way to down there (and I mean my kar mor!). Sorry, I look typical Asian and I'm proud of it. If you're gonna discriminate me based on that, you ought to be screwed with a rusty metal rod through your asshole.

Food:5.5/10 (Excluding the tiramisu cake, of which I will give 9/10)
Service: 2/10
Price:3/10
Ambience: 7/10

The food was nothing to yell about though the ambience was cosy, this I won't deny.

But on the very same note, Villa Bali offers almost the same rustic ambience at a MUCH MUCH better service. At least, I never felt discriminated as an Asian there.

All in all, it was an utter disappointment. Perhaps doubly so, because I so wanted to make it enjoyable for Damien.

There's only one word to describe my traumatic experience.









PUI!