A brief history of time and table service

It was if I'd just escaped from the set of a remake of The Invisible Man!  Trying to gain access to The Bangkok Baking Company part of the Marriott on Sukhumvit, I had to wait for two waiting staff -oblivious to my existence and gentle tapping on the glass door - to finish their conversation. When I finally got through the door they both about heeled and walked off. I relied on my own initiative to find a table at the back of the dining room. And so, the long wait ensued. I Several staff rushed past me over the the course of the next few minutes; a couple ambled; but I remained invisible, apparently. After 15 minutes I thought I'd succeeded in catching the waitress's eye but no. She embarked on a long conversation with a well-dressed couple; obviously wealthier than me. Interim, I noticed clusters of staff around the counter and till who didn't seem to be doing much. After half an hour, it was time for that failsafe of all restaurant reviewers; the 'drowning man' impersonation.  I stood up, raised my arms above my head and waved them. Despite the looks of astonishment, it had the desired effect and I eventually got to order a yuzu kohi soda. Time passed. After a time, some more time passed. Then I got bored with the 'time passing' thing and switched to my default 'people watching' mode.  Two rather large female Americans entered the dining room vying with each other to totally monopolise the time of an attractive manageress. Bless her, she's still probably there. An elderly westerner on the next table appeared to have passed on; he wasn't moving at all.  I wondered whether he had expired whilst a) waiting to order b) having ordered, waiting for this food/drink or c) waiting to get the bill. A chill of horror ran down my back one as I realised that I had still to get through b) and c).  There were obviously a lot of wealthy or famous people or both in on that morning. But as the staff stood on parade for the select few it seems the rest of humanity and their customer base could go hang. Finally, the yuzu kohi soda arrived complete with a lemon slice and sprig of rosemary. At 195 Baht, I am sorry to report that it was certainly not up to the standard of offerings I have got used over the years from the associated lobby and Manhattan bars at The Marriott. Sad to say that a similar offering at Zen Den down Soi 4 was cheaper and knocked this one into a cocked hat.  I drained the glass knowing that I would need every ounce of caffeine if I was to survive my final  task in this establishment; getting and paying the bill. See previous comments about catching waiting staff's eye, invisibility cloaks above. As I a rule, I believe in moderation and will only deploy the 'drowning man' routine once per visit. And still the moments passed.  The poor manageress with the  Eton-cropped American women looked by now as if she was beyond desperation and was now engaged in an 'out of body' experience. I realised that there being barely 250 shopping days left until Christmas 2024, I was wasting valuable time.  I strode purposefully towards the till, handed over two 100 Baht notes - happy to waive the 5 Baht change but was told that the yuzu kohi soda cost 230 Baht. I waited whilst the waitress satisfied herself as to price of the mediocre offering and left. I've eating and writing about food in Thailand for years. This certainly established a new low point for service in my experience in Bangkok, without doubt a great food destination by any measure.