We had planned to make yesterday a day for us – doing things to spoil ourselves.
We had scheduled a couples massage and manicure at the Pantages Spa; and then dinner at The Keg followed by seeing Harry Connick Jr. in concert at The Hummingbird Centre.
We booked our spa session through WaySpa.com and received a confirmation message and email explaining what would happen, when to be there, etc.
We arrived at the spa 25 minutes prior to our 3pm appointment, with our confirmation email in hand. Unfortunately the girls working the counter at the spa could not find our reservation, and were unwilling to do anything to help us. Their only suggestion, “Call in on Monday between 9 and 5.”
After some heated words, they suggested that we talk to the manager/owner of the spa, and they sent us to go and find her. (In my opinion, they should have found her for us…). Surprisingly she was no where to be found!
We eventually called WaySpa and the reservation agent Nadine looked up our appointment and confirmed that it was booked at the spa. She even called the spa, but as with us, they simply said, too bad, so sad, buh bye.
In the end, we were left on the cold side of the door with 4 hours to kill in downtown. We ended up having a milk shake at Fran’s, and wandering through the Eaton Centre.
At 5pm we headed to The Keg. We like The Keg, but I remembered that the last time I was there I ordered the New York Peppercorn steak and when it arrived at the table, it was covered in mushrooms. I hate mushrooms. The menu does not indicate that there are mushrooms in the meal.
Before ordering I repeatedly questioned the waiter and warned him that I do not want any mushrooms. If it has mushrooms, I’m sending it back.
Guess what happened? The plate arrived with a few mushrooms in the sauce. The waiter is very embarrassed. By this time, we do not have time to wait for them to remake my meal, so I scrap the sauce off and deal with it.
Now, the steaks were fine, but the mushroom issue was just another downer on the day. Thankfully the waiter recognized that we were unhappy, and brought us our a piece of my favourite dessert, the Billy Miner Pie, on the house. This certainly lifted our spirits.
Off to the show we go. Leah is excited. Very excited.
We take our seats – dead centre, 15 rows back – just about perfect!
The curtain goes up and the band breaks into an instrumental medley of classics and Harry-hits! Harry is not on stage. The set is a steamy club in New Orleans, complete with gas lamps and slowly rotating ceiling fans.
After 15 minutes, Harry comes on stage and rips into the first song. I’ve never seen Harry perform before, but I will certainly not miss him when he comes to town again.
I’ll let Leah fill in the review of the show, but suffice to say, it was great!
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