 WWF Café
Times Square couldn't be any more squarely aimed at America's fourteen year old, with TRL, the WWF, and ABC's PrimeTime all located in the same large block. It was therefore appropriate that a recent business trip to New York found me (the one with the eternal 14-year old responsibility level) in Times Square, with "day job" coworkers, complete with cushy hotel and union-related actor sightings (William Daniels and Richard Dreyfuss). Facinating. Anyway, lunch found me half-heartedly suggesting we go to the WWF Café, only to be surprised to discover everybody else was cool with it. I'm far and away the biggest rasslin' fan of the bunch, though even I don't particularly care at this point, but deep inside, my 1997 self spurred me on.
Disappointment immediately set in as, for whatever reason, I was expecting a lot more WWF ephemera spread around the premises a la Planet Hollywood or what have you. Instead, there's a small set aside area (assumedly for in-store signings whenever a "celebrity" might appear), with a few glassed-in items, all autographed by mostly lower tier WWF acts (members of Shane McMahon's old posse, etc). We were there just as they had opened for lunch, so the premises were fairly vacant, exposing essentially what is just a large restaurant and bar littered with a million TV screens. Would probably make for fun on a crowded Monday night, though not so much for a workday lunch.
Most of my co-workers were familiar with the awkward 1995-era WWF, so I helped to provide as much translation as possible, as in "Oh, that's so-and-so, he used to be 'The Monstrosity' back in the day," or "Yeah, Vince McMahon doesn't do commentary anymore," etc. Videos on display ranged from vintage Mick Foley antics circa late '98, and an overly long segment involving the Dudley Boyz (do they still use the 'z'?) hasslin' common folk out in Times Square. Carpeting in the café consisted of a black and red scheme … *Loud Bassoon editor makes Gazoo-style entrance out of nowhere to whisper in my ear* Wait, this is a food review, and not a 'décor review'? Damn. Say, when can we start doing décor reviews anyway?
Ok, the food. Yes. The grilled chicken breast sandwich I had was very tasty, and even for New York, the prices were reasonable. Service was another matter, as the English /"mystery language" barrier made itself known multiple times during the course of the visit. I mean, I'm all for the tired, poor, huddled masses and all, but English spoken here, am I right?! Huh?! *Pained silence* Er, the check took an eternity to finally appear, and a waiter chase-down ensued … only to inspire future "extreme customer/waiter" battles within the WWF, we can all hope.
Now, had Mick Foley magically appeared and joined us at the table in a spirited High Fidelity-esque conversation involving record collections and Top 10 lists, the WWF Café may well have sold me on the place, and maybe even inspired me to get into rasslin' again. As it was, though, the experience boiled down to a decent chicken sandwich in an oppressively commercial setting … no thanks.
Review by Bradley A. Milton, October 2000 |