Cheap French... for a price

The hot sandwich chick from Cosi has finally agreed to give your cheesy ass one date. You know that a Classy lady like this needs the kinda lovin' that only duck and muscles can provide, so you take her to Bistro du Coin just north of Dupont. The food is great, the wine is fine, but at the end of the night you're stuck with a lonely drive home with the doggy bag. What happened?

This is a question that many an unsatisfied lust asks themselves about Bistro Du Coin. The food is really good- surprisingly good, the location is perfect...but every time I go in here I leave feeling wierded out and yucky (technical term). Its tough to quantify, but I've narrowed it down to three possibilities:

The waiters - There's a special group of folks who confuse snobby briskness with efficiency, and this place has hired them all. Now, popular notion agrees that there's a certain level of prissiness expected in a French restaurant. This is the same notion that looks for a gothy rudeness from every starbucks barista. I say, if you want to roleplay an unpleasant stereotype, be a waiter at Hooters.

The room - The colors in MacDonald's restaurants have been specially chosen to psychologically induce hunger and create anxiety, the idea being "eat a lot, then get out". These are the same colors as BOC has chosen for their dining room. Its also loud and echo-y, especially packed to capacity with...

The cramped tables - There's something about having your silverware swept off your table by a passing diner for the nth time that makes you wonder...wouldn't an extra three inches of arm room rock?

Alright, I don't mean to be pissy (like a Bistro Du Coin waiter) but the food here is usually so yummy and cheap. I just wish I could bring myself to munch it more than once a year.