Just as it doesn’t take much to make me happy, some days it equally doesn’t take much to annoy me. One thing guaranteed to frustrate, upset and generally infuriate me is bad service. Today was a perfect example of getting to see both ends of the service spectrum and all times it proved to be a surprise.

This far into our trip we’re all feeling tired and so start the day very lazily staying at home and watching bad TV. Once we finally decided to get our butts into gear it was for a trip to Williamsburg, Brooklyn and a shop I have waited years to visit.

I have long been a fan of perfume and used to collect it. For a while now I have browsed the website of, read articles on and watched appear on TV, Christopher Brosius of I hate Perfume fame. I have long wanted to visit the shop and today seemed the perfect day. My senses were revived last night and today my nose is crying out for unusual smells and I’m in the mood to treat myself to some.

So off we head. As soon as we surface from the subway, the look of Williamsburg captivates us. The architecture is great and the general vibe seems friendly and the area seems full of interesting shops, restaurants and bars all of which appeal. Unfortunately our good feeling towards the place was about to drastically fade.

After a few detours, into vintage shops, we made our way to I Hate Perfume and the experience went a little something like this:
4.30pm- We enter the shop which is full of intriguing bottles of scents. Unfortunately it is also full of signs telling us not to try them without assistance so we obey these and wait for assistance. There are 3 other customers in the shop, with one member of staff helping two of them, so we happily browse whilst listening to 3 or 4 other members of staff chatting at the back of the shop where they can see us and us them.
4.35pm- Two of the other customers leave so we guess it won’t be long until someone helps us. We’ve not even been acknowledged so far by anyone, which is strange for the USA, but I don’t give it too much thought. Yet.
4.40pm- Ten minutes in and the novelty of looking at bottles and not being able to smell anything is starting to wear off. All 3 of us still seem to be invisible to anyone in the shop. One of us is truly bored by now and sits down.
4.45pm- My friend, who is less in the perfume buying mood than me, understandably declares she’s had enough of their attitude and leaves. Already I am torn about staying and beginning to wonder if we really are invisible as the shop is small and ignoring us seems quite a Herculean feat. But I have waited years to visit, and buy, so I decide to hold on a bit longer.
4.55pm. Still nothing. The member of staff in the shop is dealing with the other remaining customer whilst seemingly being absolutely determined to pretend we don’t exist. By now it has also become apparent that the members of staff at the back of the shop are actually chatting and bitching about other customers. All os which is very easily heard in this small space. This really raises a red flag for me as not only do I not want to hear what so and so has ordered, I definitely don’t want to learn whose credit card has been declined. I also don’t relish the thought that I too could be spoken about in this way if I become a customer.
5pm. Tired of standing around, and becoming increasingly bored and torn between leaving and staying, I sit down. This is the magic cue for the assistant to suddenly appear to notice us and say ‘Can I help?’ Tempted by a variety of replies, I politely just say ‘I want to try some perfume’. The response ‘Choose some, get them together and I’ll help you with that’. He then wanders off before I can ask for any guidance etc.
5.05pm. I’ve chosen a few I want to try and lined them up. The assistant comes over and tells me I’ve chosen too many. When I ask for suggestions he wanders off again.
5.10pm. I give up waiting for him and start smelling them myself. I fall in love with a few but want prices and more information before committing. But getting this seems very unlikely.
5.20pm. I finally come to my senses and realise that in all seriousness I really don’t want to hand over my hard-earned money to people prepared to treat customers like this and who are so full of themselves they aren’t even willing to lower themselves to deal with us.

As I leave behind the perfumes I was considering, I feel a fool for having given them the benefit of the doubt for 50 minutes when it should have been apparent after the first few that for some reason they were simply not interested in serving us. If I hadn’t been so set on buying from here I would have left quickly, but I had waited so long to visit and really wanted some of the scents, so I decided to pay a blind eye to their faults but that could only last so long. I am baffled as to why you would run a shop if you are not interested in serving people?

Weary I head over to the bar, Kinfolk Studios, where my friend has been patiently waiting. Needing a sit down, a drink (or two) and some food, two of us approach the bar to ask for menus where the two members of staff working there turn to us, look us up and down and then turn back to each other and continue their chat. Now I’m really starting to feel paranoid and baffled. But I head back to my seat and we can only laugh at the absurdity of it all. What is it about this area? Are these people really too hip to serve?

My friend already has a drink so we just sit with her and when ten minutes later the waitress has finished her chat and brings us a menu all we can say is we’re not interested. And you know what? She really couldn’t be less bothered. It’s apparent we have taken up too much of her precious time when she had to actually pause to assess us so I guess expecting her to provide us with refreshments in any way was asking too much. Just who do we think we are?!?!?

By now our love of Williamsburg has long disappeared and all I can think about is getting back to Manhattan, finding someone who wants our money in return for goods and services and turning this day around.

Fortunately our trip into a thrift store on the way to the subway restores my faith in humankind when not only does the lady working there serve us but at no point does she make us feel like scum. I guess she hasn’t worked in this area long enough to receive the obligatory ‘the customer is not only wrong but barely deserves to live’ training.

Back in Manhattan I know just the place to cheer us up: Prime Burger. I have visited here the past two years and the service and decor won me over. The warm food, friendly service and chat are just the antidote to the poor day we've had so far. Knowing we're going for a late dinner in a few hours I eat light and treat myself to French fried onions, coleslaw and a vanilla egg cream ( this appears never to have reached the UK so having one a year is a real treat).

This restaurant is worth a visit not just for the food, which to be honest is good but no better than you'd get anywhere else, but the decor and the service. As soon as you walk through the door you feel as though you've stepped back in time. The diner is outfitted in a 50s/ 60s style with a great counter to sit at and funny chairs with trays in front of them (or regular tables at the back) and the staff could not be friendlier. We were spending far less in here than I had planned to spend in I Hate Perfume but that made no difference, which is as it should be.

After our late lunch we headed to Radio City as I had convinced my companions to indulge in a little good, old-fashioned entertainment with a visit to the Christmas Spectacular. I had been last year and this year was just as good. If you can put aside all your cynicism, settle down and relax, you'll enjoy the show.

A few hours later we emerged nostalgic, and in a festive mood. Just right for heading off for dinner and drinks.

Being nostalgic we decided to hark back a whole two days and return to Saxon+Parole where we received service diametrically opposed to that we had experienced in I Hate Perfume and Kinfolk Studios.

It not being long since we'd eaten, some light food and a couple of drinks were all we were after. I was in the mood for a martini and oysters and was ready to order this when I was presented with the oyster ordering card. The waiter kindly described all the different ones available and left me to choose. Uh-oh.

Not being a connoissuer I wasn't sure what to choose. There were 5 different types available with prices ranging from $2.25 up to $4 each. Knowing I probably wouldn't appreciate the difference, I was tempted to just choose the cheapest. But was worried I would look cheap. So should I go for the most expensive? Or any of the 3 inbetween. It was a culinary minefield.

So I took a deep breathe and asked the waiter for advice on what would be the most briniest as that's what my tastebuds were craving. Thinking it probably would make no difference to me, before he had even opened his mouth I had decided to just go for whatever he recommended. And what do you know- straight away he recommended the cheapest ones. Now I have been to many places where they would have leapt in telling me to order the most expensive, and once told that it's pretty hard to not order those and go for something more affordable. But that dilemma was removed from me as he genuinely gave me good advice, and when I ordered the $2.25 oysters and a martini, I knew I was in good hands.

Unfortunately the restaurant and bar were packed and our drinks order was taking a while to appear. I had wanted my drink to complement my food and so when my oysters appeared with no martini in sight I was a bit disappointed. But it was apparent our waiter was doing all he could as we could see him constantly looking to check if we had our drinks and heading to the bar to chase them up, so whilst disappointed, it was obvious it was no-one's fault.

Soon my drink appeared with profuse apologies and I continued to enjoy my fare. Minutes later my companions' drinks arrived and so did another member of staff with more apologies and complimentary food for us to share and enjoy. We hadn't really been inconvenienced, had definitely not complained and would have left with no bad feelings whatsoever, but the fact that someone had taken note of what was happening, even on this busy night, and immediately thought to make it up to us showed just how easy it is to get good service right and proved my theory that keeping people happy is not only easy, but pays off in the long run. I think you can guess just who I will and won't be willing to spend my money with on future visits to New York.