The Cashew, Kansas City, Missouri Restaurant Details

Food:

I'm glad this place is getting new ownership, the previous owner had no value for the customer and only hired staff that would insult the customers

Food:

It may be great for small groups, but not for more than four people. It gets very crowded and loud and service can be slow.

Food:

Good happy hour, nice event area upstairs. Not great beer selection.

Food:

Kind of crowded downstairs, but the upstairs felt so open once they open that window. Good views. Cold drinks. Didn't try the food.

Food:

I tried to like you, Cashew, I tried. I gave you three chances, and you struck out all three times. I gave you one last final test, and you epically failed in the form of a total sophomoric meltdown by a bartender named "Charles C."

The first three strikes were because of the usual complaints about a restaurant/bar that serves substandard food at superstandard prices by waiters and waitresses who have the perpetual look of "I'd rather have needles shoved under my fingernails than serve these people" on their faces. It is one thing to get served by someone who has had a bad day. It is another thing to repeatedly get served by people who are willing to go out of their way to be passive aggressive to their customers on whom they are relying on for tips. Tragic.

After giving the Cashew some space for several months, I decided to return with a simple test in mind: I would ask if they would change the current basketball game to another. I have been to many sports bars and this is not a hard request to acquiesce. As per my "three strikes" rule, I gave them three chances to pass this test. Here are the results:

First try: Asked the bartender, Charles C., to change one of the TVs to the game I preferred to watch. He said he had a lot of people to take care of (totally understandable from the outrageous lack of management, leaving this poor sod to take care of nearly 40 thirsty and hungry customers by himself) and that he would get to it when he could. I gave him an hour. No results.

Second try: Went downstairs to ask someone who was less busy. There were 3 employees standing around with nothing to do. I gave them something to do: Change a channel for me, please. Employee went upstairs, talked to Charles C., pretended to care but did nothing, then went back downstairs.

Third try: Manager time! I went straight to the manager. After giving me an extra helping of attitude about my request, he came upstairs. He scrolled through the DirecTV lineup, completely skipping the game I requested, and came to me saying, "I couldn't find it." Can we get an applause for this guy?

Charles C. couldn't leave this alone, though. Charles C. had his panties in quite the bunch, and he wanted me to know. He came over to my group and told me exactly how and why his panties are in a bunch. Charles C.'s face had turned into Krakatoa, and he erupted. The root cause? He was too busy. He had told both strike two employee and strike three manager to not change the channel for us out of spite.

I have never been yelled at in such a manner by a human being who claims to be an "adult." Charles C., you are not an adult. You are not even a man. You are a boy. A hateful boy. A boy who serves alcoholic drinks at the most anti-consumer bar I have ever been to in my entire life.

So you, dear Googler, please do yourself a favor and instead go to The Flying Saucer.