If you’re really lucky you’ll order a bottle of the house white at the bar, get charged incorrectly (according to the wine list you order from), ask for a refund and be told by the cokedcockfaced bar manager (I think he was – he looked like he was REALLY important and could count money) you’re ‘lucky’ to be getting such nice wine at that price. Erm, you’re lucky you get to be so thick. If you’re really, really super lucky the incredibly dumb bar woman will throw your voided transaction receipt at you after you ask for your copy because she’s a sterling douche that excels in the service industry. Aww guys, you’re the ones who are lucky. Lucky that your lives are so fulfilled working in such a magnificent establishment. Lucky that you are so good at your jobs. Lucky that the world is so huge, and you are so tiny and insignificant that your failures won’t resonate too hard, and if I want to find some cunty service then thank the sweet lord I know exactly where to go.

Remember friends, head to Great Eastern Dining Cunts for abuse and the best bad service ever.

Time Out say, ‘what’s not to like about a place that serves beautifully presented pan-Asian food in comfortable, cool surroundings’? Er, I’ll tell you – the cunts serving at the bar.