I’ve agonised over writing this letter for some time. I’ve got such conflicted feelings about our tortured relationship, I just don’t know what to do.
You’re ideally situated, perfect for kids, and offer some not too bad menu offerings. I just can’t take your attitude. You’re never open when I want you to be, and when you are, its as if you’re somewhere else.
You’re the kind of place I want to show off to my interstate friends, but am afraid to because I don’t know which you will turn up – will it be the “no service at any cost” you, or the “I’m here, just stop bothering me” you, if indeed you turn up at all.
I wanted you to be a part of our wedding, but were put off at our unannounced trial lunch, I also tried to share our son’s first birthday with you (which you let us enjoy in total peace and quiet, without nary an interruption).
Today I have reached a momentous decision. We turned to you post-Floriade for a nice family lunch. But of course, it being a public holiday (albeit a somewhat feeble one), in the middle of Canberra’s peak tourist season, you decided it wasn’t worth opening (despite the 3 metre sign saying otherwise placed to entice the masses that flock to Floriade). It was kind of you not to tidy up after Sunday though, as the orphaned tables and chairs provided a good location for people to picnic.
I’m fed up of being the only one trying in this relationship. I wish you well, I really do – I hope you manage to find the right balance between good customer service and shockingly bad business sense (or indeed any balance). I’ve gone over everything, trying to work out what I’ve done wrong and whilst I’m sorry that it didn’t work, it really isn’t me, it’s you…
All the best.