El Furniture Warehouse Ottawa — Restaurant in Ottawa

I entered that establishment for one thing only: a single shot of whiskey. One ounce. And yet, with stunning audacity, they chose to eject not just a patron, but a CEO and a Board Member—because I had that one drink.

As a neuroscience researcher, I am well-versed in the pharmacokinetics of alcohol. A single standard drink—defined medically as 14 grams of pure ethanol, roughly one ounce of whiskey—when consumed with food, undergoes delayed gastric emptying and is absorbed gradually through the small intestine. In a healthy adult, the onset of any central nervous system effect from such a dose, especially under fed conditions, is minimal to negligible. Blood Alcohol Concentration (BAC) from one drink typically does not exceed 0.02%, far below any threshold of impairment. There was no intoxication. There was no misconduct. There was only grief.

Before I entered, one of the security guards asked if I was alright. I responded with composure and honesty: yes. But I was grieving the loss of a mentor—a man whose guidance elevated me to the level of a Chief Executive Officer. That kind of loss does not pass quietly. It shakes the very architecture of one’s identity.

And yet, despite maintaining poise, smiling, and treating every individual with absolute courtesy, a server—whose only mandate is to serve customers—took it upon herself to have me removed. Without cause. Without dignity. She proceeded to escort me out. I did not wait for that indignity. I left of my own accord. I do not remain in places where grief is treated as inconvenience.

I went to The Laff. There, I was welcomed. Celebrated. That is where people should go. Not to The Weathlude—a place where professionalism is absent and patrons are judged with ignorance and arrogance. To remove a CEO unknowingly is not just careless. It is a display of institutional failure.

I do not diminish anyone’s title or position. But for the first time, I asked, directly and calmly, “What made you do this?” And the response I received was as hollow as the gesture itself: “Just last night.”

Last night—the very night I lost a mentor who helped forge the path that made me one of the most accomplished professionals in my field. A CEO. An ambassador several times over. A sitting board director.

Let me be unequivocal: this private property would do well to hire bartenders who possess the emotional intelligence and maturity that hospitality demands. People who understand that service is not just transactional—it is human. As someone who leads with vision at the highest level of corporate and diplomatic operations, I would never eject a human being without reason.

There was no problem. I live with multiple sclerosis and optic neuritis. These are not mere diagnoses—they are among the most complex neurological conditions known. I am classified as a high-severity case. And yet, I continue to lead, represent, and serve.

Afterward, I went to another spot—quiet, composed—not to drink, but simply to finish my emails. That, after all, was my primary reason for going out in the first place. I completed my work in peace. The bartenders there were professional, grounded, and masculine in presence, yet carried a rare quality this generation is quickly losing: emotional empathy. They did not need to know who I was. They simply knew how to be human. And that, in itself, was enough.

Look me up. I do not need to prove who I am. The world already knows.

And let me leave you with this: do not go to this bar unless your expectation is to be served by children pretending to be adults. This venue is curated not for grown adults, but for the emotionally adolescent. If you seek a place where maturity, class, and professionalism still exist, go to The Laff. That is...

We went to Warehouse around 10 p.m., and even though there was a line, we got seated really quickly in a cozy booth at the back of the restaurant—which made all the difference this time.

We’ve been to Warehouse quite a few times now, and honestly, it’s been a hit or miss. The last two visits we were seated outside on the patio, and the music was so loud we could barely hear each other talk, which definitely affected the vibe. But this time was great—seating indoors in a booth gave us a much better experience. We could actually talk and enjoy ourselves, and I really loved that.

Our server was super sweet and friendly. It did take a little while for our food order to be taken, but the place was pretty packed, so I understand the delay.

I had originally planned to get the quesadillas, but unfortunately, they were out of the regular chicken and only had breaded chicken left. I was a bit disappointed since I was really craving the quesadillas, but I appreciated the option to substitute. I ended up ordering the mango salad with chicken, and while it wasn’t anything amazing, it was a nice lighter option since I’ve been trying to eat a bit healthier.

My friend got their usual—the mushroom melt burger (sorry if that’s not the exact name)—and they absolutely loved it, as always. We also had a few tequila shots, which were super affordable and added to the fun of the night.

The vibe was great, especially thanks to where we were seated. Food and drinks are very budget-friendly, which is a big plus. While Warehouse can be a bit unpredictable depending on the night and where you’re seated, this visit was wonderful, and I’d...

I am beyond irate, I came on a work trip from the US and came here about three times. Each time, I’ve had a horrible experience. The staff knew nothing about anything and was very rude. I kept coming back only because the food was five dollars and not bad. This last time is definitely my last time coming here. I have already told all my colleagues, about 700 of us never to come back.

We were waiting online which is not a problem and I asked if we could sit at the bar they said sure. We ordered our food and when the food came not long, about seven minutes after we started eating a security officer came to me yelling that I have to stand up. I was so surprised and confused, what do you mean by stand up eating. He said that at a certain time they have to stand at a bar. I informed him my friend and I are wearing heels and we cannot stand he repeated “you will stand.” I told him no I am not standing, either you find us a table because you should’ve told us when we were in line that we would be standing in seven minutes.

He walked away I asked me to the manager while speaking to the manager that security officer probably Mexican, yelled out I only give them 10 minutes and they have to get up.

I informed him that I would like to pay for the food and get the hell out of there. I have never been so disrespected in a restaurant in my life, is it because I’m paying five dollars for food? I’ve got a super disrespected so did my friends. We will be going back to America with such a bad taste in her...