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Having frequented this brand new eatery on 51st Ave North for several weeks and spending hundreds of dollars on their overpriced, mediocre food and occasional beer, including consistantly generous tips. (It was convenient .....That's all!)
I was a bit taken aback when I was suddenly asked to pay my bill, get out, and never come back....... no explanation given. As a senior citizen who has never in my life been kicked out of anywhere and aware of committing no offense of any kind, I was naturally a bit shocked.
When pressed for a reason, the proprietor said "I'm sick to death of seeing your ice cream truck in my parking lot, in front of my sign!"
This has to be the most rediculous complaint I have ever heard in my entire 64 years. My truck has a handicap plate and the only handicap parking happens to be next to the sign.
The sign, however, is 17 feet in the air, so my truck would have to levitate in order to be "in front" of it. There was no appropriate comment for this ludicrous accusation, so I paid my bill, tipped the server, and drove home shaking my head, never to return.
When I later went to have lunch at a much nicer place across the street, I told the manager what happened at The Nations, he laughed out loud. He said "Your truck is certainly welcome here any time!" He then offered me a free coffee.
Apparently, plenty of other customers have had similar experiences at The Nations and refuse to go there. He described the proprietor quite accurately as a short, stocky, perpetually angry looking individual who drinks too much of his own booze and is thoroughly obnoxious and rude. Yep! Perfect description of Pat!
I also learned from another source that Pat is not the sole owner of The Nations as he claims to be. My source commented: "When his backers find out that he's throwing good paying customers out, right, left, and center and getting a reputation for being an obnoxious jerk, he might be getting the boot himself."
That would be good riddance, but too little to late, as far as I'm concerned. The Nations will never get another dime from me or any of my friends. As far as I'm concerned, this second class hole-in-the-wall can crawl back into the same trailor park it crawled out of.
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