So this is my final day in Dallas, and I inadvertently overslept the free continental breakfast at the MGM Elegante. Which is probably for the better, considering two days ago the hotel provided oatmeal, runny eggs and a mosquito in my cranberry juice.
Anyhow, I did the ol’ Yelp search and wound up at the Maple Leaf Diner, a highly-rated joint that has made appearances on multiple Food Network shows. And, to be clear, it was good. Really good. I ordered the pumpkin pancakes, and though they weren’t otherworldly, they were more than tasty. Plus, I wound up sitting alongside Rani Monson, a former journalist with a pretty sweet blog.
Wait. Where was I?
Oh, yeah. The Maple Leaf Diner. So all was swell, save one HUGE issue. Namely, I was located at the bar. And that was fine, except—upon placing my rear atop a chair—it became clear that I (and everyone else seated there) was preposterously low in proportion to the food. I actually went to the car to get some clothing to use as cushions, because eating with any sort of confidence and competence was near impossible.
And as I paid my bill and said farewell to Rani, I wondered aloud, “How is this possible?” How can a killer restaurant with a national reputation and a menu overflowing with goodness fail to realize the only customers who would be comfortable at the bar are named Yao and Shaq?