A Restaurant That Has Erased Good Memories and Left Only Bitterness
A few days ago, I had some business in Gyeongju and found myself heading toward the Bomun Tourist Complex. My appointment was at 1:30 p.m., so I had plenty of time. I decided to revisit Maetdol Sundubu, a restaurant where I had enjoyed a memorable meal years ago. But as I arrived, I witnessed something rather astonishing.
As everyone knows, restaurants near a popular establishment often include imitators—“Restaurant No. 2” or “Restaurant No. 3”—as well as businesses that offer something different but cluster around the original like parasites.
I had come to the original restaurant, which I had known for more than a decade—almost 20 years. It had clearly become much more famous and, judging by appearances, much more profitable. Part of me was pleased; a restaurant that serves good food deserves to succeed.
After all, isn’t it a good thing if we can continue to enjoy it?
The Customer Is King? No—What a Load of Old Bullshit
The problem that day was the parking lot.
As I tried to park, an attendant gestured for me to go up, saying the lot was full. He made it sound as though there were spaces waiting for me upstairs.
He wore a deeply annoyed expression, as if everything about his job was a bother.
I went up, assuming they had created a new second parking lot, but there was nothing there. When I turned the car around and tried to ask the attendant about it, he simply gestured for me to go back down.
In other words, the message was: “Don’t even think about parking here. Find somewhere far away—up or down, wherever you like—or don’t. I don’t care, and don’t bother me.”
In the end, I was so disgusted that I drove to another restaurant.
I have a discerning palate, and discovering great restaurants is one of life’s important pleasures for me. I enjoy sensing a human warmth in those places, appreciating every bite, and savoring the experience.
But after working hard in some rural corner and achieving success, restaurant owners and staff tend to fall into one of two camps.
There are the establishments that remain humble, continue to thank their customers, and maintain their gratitude and passion. Then there are those that become convinced customers will keep coming on their own once they are sitting on a mountain of money—and begin treating them arrogantly.
For the latter, failure is practically guaranteed.
Customers recognize this kind of restaurant first. I certainly did—I turned my car around immediately.
I will never have any reason to return to that restaurant.
I am writing this in the hope that no one else has to experience the same deeply unpleasant and infuriating treatment.
