Hello beautiful humans! One Friday night a few weeks ago. I told a friend of mine that I wanted to take pretty pics on James Island. He suggested we go to Ellis Creek Fish Camp. He’d only been once, and like the fried oysters. I’m down to go anywhere with good food and views.
We arrived at beginning of dinner, around 6-ish. So it was a little busy, but not to capacity at all. We walk up the the hostess and she said we would have to wait for about 10 minutes. I could see that there was plenty of available seating. So, I politely asked, “Is there any space at the bar?” She then offered to sit us at the cocktail tables facing the creek. I thought that would be nice.
As we walked in. I felt like everyone was staring. Like in an old western movie. When the strange lonesome cowboy walks in a saloon. I was just waiting for someone to ask, “What you doin’ round these parts?” No one did though. Would’ve made for a better story. Anyway, I don’t know if they were staring into my soul, my cleavage, or at my friend. Who is of Caucasian persuasion. I couldn’t tell what it was. I just know the energy definitely changed, and it made me slightly uncomfortable.
After that short walk, which felt like it was in slow motion. We got to the table. Then, I noticed that the table was just about 12-14 inches around and 2 feet high. It was way too small for 2 people to have dinner on. After a few minutes, my friend asked the same hostess if we could possibly move to the bigger table that had become available behind us. She just said “No, someone else is going to sit there.” Her response left us puzzled, because no one came to sit at the table, and this place doesn’t take reservations. At this point, I felt as though we were being mistreated.
My feeling were intensified as this hostess sat an older couple at a regular sized table near us. I was ready to walk out. Until, our waitress finally came to the table. We asked her if we could change tables and she just said, “Of course, right over here.” We sat next to the older couple and listened to their conversation. They were obviously on an internet date. The guy would not stop talking about all the places he’d traveled to. As the women just nodded her head and drank wine.
We ate some fried stuff, and drank frose’. I didn’t take photos of the food. If you’ve seen fried seafood, it looked exactly like that. The best thing about this place was the view, and the epic pics I took. I never knew what the fuck was wrong with that hostess. She was either being an asshole or just completely clueless. The patrons staring as if we were exotic creatures didn’t help the matter. It was probably one of the worst experiences I’ve had in Charleston. Its all good though, I can get seafood from anywhere else. Til next time loves 🙂