Just As Ridiculous As It Sounds: Getting Stopped By Agave’s Bouncer During Brunch

I really don’t like lugging around a handbag -- and why would I? I only really use about 10% of what I carry around at any given time. If it wasn’t for the fact that I need to carry a bulky set of keys, emergency Excedrin, my Iphone (which Apple can’t seem to make up its mind whether to make it bigger or smaller), some money and a Metrocard, I’d never carry a bag at all.

And it was on a sunny Sunday morning, sans handbag, that I traveled to Agave to meet my friend for brunch. With phone in hand and money, Metrocard and keys strategically stuffed in my jean pockets I thought I was all set. That is, until I was barred by some boorish looking bouncer/security guy asking me for my ID. In my rush, I hadn’t bothered to take it. I’m going there to stuff myself. Drinking alcohol just gets in the way of eating.

But this is besides the point. Is this the WASP/hispter-infested spot I always assumed it was or is it a club because let the record reflect, I have *never* been refused entry into a restaurant, with a bar or not,  for not having my driver’s license.

I told the bouncer I’m not there to drink. And then I told him again. And again. And again. Taking his job way too seriously, he finally went over to the host to whisper “She doesn’t have her ID, make sure she doesn’t drink”. The host nodded and a waiter showed up to direct us to our seats.

You’d think that was the last time I’d see that guy. But, no. In an absurd show of self-importance he comes to our table while the waiter took our orders to tell him, rather loudly, that I didn’t have my ID and I can’t drink the bottomless mimosas. “Yes, dude,” I said with more force and aggression, “I didn’t order the mimosas, I’m already covered with the eggs benedict and blueberry pancakes I just ordered.” The waiter was even impatiently nodding his head as if to dismiss home boy. “Yes, yes everything is fine,” he said. Do you think he’s just as tired of him as I am?

Agave, I get it. You’re popular and want to protect yourself from giddy underage brunch-goers who want to sneak a drink or two. But hiring such an antagonistic bouncer (who looks to be overcompensating for years of being bullied) so ridiculous he is a caricature of “bouncer” makes your whole establishment look silly.

Not to take away from your food, which was more or less average but still delicious, I’d like to share with the audience my obligatory food pictures:

 Eggs Benedict

Eggs Benedict

 Blueberry pancakes

Blueberry pancakes