Lahaina: Sweet lodgings, a bitter meal to swallow

My husband, Bob, and I were in Lahaina in March of 2000, and I'd done my homework before the trip. We went to Longhi's for brunch after hearing all the praise. Well, guess what? The owner of Longhi's ruined our meal. I, of course, knew it was Robert Longhi at the table next to us, because his shameless self-promotion means you will constantly run into his photos if you do online searches.

He was surrounded by sycophants and sheep, yessing him up one side and down another. He sat there, bragging and profane and completely obnoxious—"F--- them!" and "S--- on them!" over and over and over, in front of children and babies, at top volume. He was holding court and felt that profanity was clearly the missing spice from everyone's meals.

At one point, Bob turned around and said, "Sir. You are profane, and you are obnoxious. Would you please keep it down?" and turned back to his meal. Of course--little goodie-goodie me--I wanted to fall through the floor, even though I was a customer of that braying jackass.

Longhi turned to his table and said, in a stagey voice, "Oh. I see. I should talk to the owner about that!" and they all laughed in that nervous and polite way that suck-ups do. They were probably hoping he wouldn't start swearing again. He laughed at his own anemic joke, and we finished our meal and left. (He was noticeably quieter after Bob took the wind out of his sails, thank God.)

What he should have done was apologized and made amends—bought us a drink or dessert or anything that indicated he knew he'd made a mistake.

But no-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o. Not Robert Longhi. Clearly, he's got an ego the size of the pre-combusted Hindenberg.

Later that day, we were at the grocery store, and I got out of the car only to come face to face with you-know-who. GASP! I threw myself back in the car—he recognized me and suddenly got very busy with something in his back seat. Bob was howling with laughter at my nervousness. Finally, Robert "Longh-ego" drove off, and I could get out of the car.

We had befriended someone in one of the local stores, and she got the biggest kick out of that: "Nobody likes that guy! He's just awful!" She loved the public upbraiding from Bob, and I bet she told everyone she knows.

So, I don't eat at Longhi's. Neither should you, unless you like wheezing profanity soaring through the air while you eat. (P.S. The food wasn't that good, either. Certainly not worth the price of admission. Maybe the waiters should memorize their résumés for when they want to work at a good restaurant.)