The following is a Brooklyn Bugle reader’s account of their experience at the Montague Street Haagen Dazs in Brooklyn Heights.
Who is the biggest asshole in the Heights? There’s tough competition, but today’s nominee is the guy behind the counter at night at the Haagen Dazs on Montague St. Here are his credentials:
Many customers complain that he weighs the scoops to ensure, heaven forbid, that he not dole out too much of that already overpriced ice cream. But what happened to me on Monday night was so egregious that he should be run out of town on a rail (from the grubby Clark St. station, no less!).
I called the shop at 10:45 to inquire when it closed and was told by a lady that it was open until 11 p.m. I rushed to the shop, getting there at 10:53 (verifiable!) only to find all the ice creams covered. But I’m a friendly, personable guy, so I said to the man who would later become the object of my eternal wrath, “You can’t be closed! It’s only 10:53. Isn’t it great that I got here before you closed.” He said, “We’re closed.” I said, “I’ll have a chocolate peanut butter in a sugar cone.” He decided against his better judgment to serve me.
Now, here’s where it gets truly assaholic. I have never in my entire 49 years of eating ice cream — from parlors all over the world in every season and at every time of day — been served a portion so measly as the one served by this paragon of parsimony. The ball of ice cream barely broke the plane of the cone itself! Three bites and I was done.
Oh, and it was $4! Four dollars! I could have gotten a pint of premium ice cream at a store. I remain enraged and will never darken that man’s door again.