Sorry about yesterday. I polished off a Mavis Staples frozen meal, and almost immediately felt pukey. I don’t know if there was bad turkey in there, or what. But within ten minutes I was right up to the cusp of some sort of explosive event. Either a power-vomit, or a “cannonball dookie.”
So, my mind was far away from the daily update. I apologize, but I’m happy to report that nothing bad happened. I just felt horrible for a couple of hours, and everything returned to normal. Weird, huh?
I’ve noticed that those frozen dinners aren’t as good as they used to be. The meat, especially, seems to be of lesser quality. I’ve been an evangelist for the Marie Callender’s brand for years, but over the past six months or so… there’s been some slippage. I have no real evidence of this, but I sometimes suspect I’m eating pressed bull rectum.
Who makes the best frozen meals? I’ve been hooked on one kind for a decade, but it might be time to start looking for another provider o’ the sodium.
On Sunday I went to the laundromat, because our washer still doesn’t work, and there were dogs in there. Oh, it’s a high-class joint… When I arrived they were barking – inside the building – and I thought, “Good god, it’s like a Jesco White documentary.”
I went in there, as the two medium-sized hounds calmed down, and found a pair of available washing machines. The place was pretty crowded, so I was concerned I might have to use two that weren’t side-by-side. But it worked out OK. I dumped my crap into the washers, poured some soap on top, and tried to find a cool spot (something below 90 degrees) to wait.
I stood playing with my phone, as sweat trickled down the center of my back, and saw some guy load what looked like forty pairs of dingy-ass tighty-whities into one of the double washers that cost nine quarters. That’s how the price is displayed on the front: “nine quarters.”
Several thoughts went through my mind as this spectacle unfolded. For one thing, do they even sell that kind of underwear anymore? What is this, 1979? Plus: why so many? I’m not sure I own forty pairs of drawers, much less find myself in a situation where they all need washed at once. Had he been out to sea or something? And finally, a little bleach wouldn’t hurt. Seriously. That was one hell of a batch of hideous, discolored ball-socks.
One of the washers eventually finished its shuckin’ ‘n’ jivin’ and the other one couldn’t be too far behind, I knew. Since our dryer is still operational, I thought I’d just take everything home and finish the job there. So, I waited. …And waited. And finally I got impatient and lifted the lid.
Not good. The whole thing was full of water, and my clothes were fully submerged. And it was done; there would be no additional activity.
Dammit! What do I do now? My clothes were literally underwater, and I needed to leave for work in less than an hour. I checked my pockets and found two quarters. So I twisted as much water out of my stuff as possible, and threw them into a dryer. I left a wide trail of wetness between the washer and the dryer, and a fourteen year old girl almost slipped and fell.
I ran the dryer for twelve minutes, which is what fitty cents will buy you, and they were still soaked when the time was up. It was a total fiasco.
And as I was carrying my heavy water-bloated pile of clothes to the car, those two dogs went off again and started barking and leaping and whatnot. And I experienced a low-grade depression for the rest of the day.
Last night at work we were talking about people who like to complain about their meals in restaurants, and it got me to thinking… I don’t believe I’ve ever sent a meal back. Oh, I’ve complained about terrible service before, and I informed our waitress about a bug in my jambalaya in Atlanta once (she insinuated I put it there myself!), but I can’t really remember sending a meal back. Maybe an under-cooked steak, once or twice? I can’t remember anything too dramatic.
But I’d like to make that our Question of the Day: have you ever asked for a restaurant do-over? Please tell us about it. What was the problem? Did they take care of it for you? Also, if you’ve ever been on the other side and had to deal with demanding asshole customers, we’ll need to know about that, as well.
I’ll probably be back tomorrow, since I missed Tuesday. So, I’ll see you guys then.
Have a great day!
Now playing in the bunker
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Bill in WV says
I went to german restaurant with a friend about 10 years ago, and she complained about and sent back EVERY dish, including her drink. I never hung out with her again.
went to a restaurant with another family and the other family’s wife complained about everything: dirty fork, water with very little ice…. So I traded meals with her when she complained about her entree (I was trying to salvage the meal); she took my plate and I took the one she complained about. I was now eating a vegatarian meal (my last choice). She took one bite of ‘my meal’ which by the way she recommended. And when the waiter came by SHE SENT MY ORIGINAL MEAL BACK!
The look on my face must of been priceless. The Husband asked me to step outside and he apologized and offered to pay for the entire meal. Apparently he has seen this act before.
Maybe it was the same person?
I’m not sure what to think of the fact that when I read through the further evidence link, what really got to me was the hair.
Bill in WV says
That certainly would make a foot fetish person excited.
Went to a Greek Restaurant a couple days after they opened and ordered one of the three actual Greek dishes on the menu. Chicken with Tzatziki in a Pita and I received a plate full of chicken with green peppers and mushrooms. That was the only meal I ever sent back and the replacement was wrong as well. Won’t be going back.
I’ve never considered it the wisest option to send food back. I know that I’m paying for it and I should get it served the way I want, but I know too many people who’ve worked in restaurants and heard waaaaaaay too many stories of what goes on when people get all snowflakey and complain. I’ll either live with the food the way it is or just not eat the offending item to risk added ingredients such as mucus, feces, semen, period blood, puss, dead insects, etc. etc.
Same logic applies to tipping: If I eat at a restaurant on regular basis I tip, even if the service is bad. Otherwise I find someplace else to eat. Servers always remember bad tippers the next time they visit.
You left the Black Pube Sprouts off of the list.
Bill in WV says
Also, scabs. Holy, shit, I think I just puked a little.
A used bandaid is always a nice surprise.
Excluding fast food, I have just recently sent food back for the first time ever. It was at an Olive Garden that just opened up in my town.
Well, I didn’t send it back as much as the waitress took it back. I ordered the easiest thing to not screw up, breaded chicken swimming in melted cheese. It got to my table and tasted like dirt. I drank some water and tried again on the opposite end of the piece of chicken, to make sure I wasn’t faulty. Again, it tasted like dirt…dirty dirt; like dirt that fell off a homeless pedophile. .
When the waitress came back she saw me spitting the second bite into a napkin. That was also the first time I wasn’t able to choke down an individual bite of food. I have eaten sardine and booger flavored jelly beans, human blood that wasn’t mine, real dirt, and a wad of pork fat covered in mayo, I could not swallow this bite of chicken and cheese.
After some discussion she made me order something else. I went with the next easiest thing, meatballs. When they came I took one bite, swallowed and smiled at the waitress. I then did not eat another bite of the meatballs or pasta. I would have preferred a frozen can of Chef Boyardee, still in the shape of the can, to what Olive Garden provided.
Terrible, terrible, soul crushing, tears of despair food is developed and distributed by Olive Garden. I have come to find that Olive Garden is just an anagram of “Evil and gore”
Also, Vile Gonad.
“Evil and gore” – pure comedy gold!
The Dave says
The reason Olive Garden exists is so that every town in America can have a worst Italian restaurant
Worst Italian FAST FOOD Restaurant
What’s worse – they don’t really ‘cook’ much of anything in the kitchen. It’s all heated up stuff from plastic bags of stuff, or so I’ve been told.
NEVER go to a restaurant when it first opens. You will be disappointed, unless the owners are smart and have had a week or so on ‘friends and family’ type nights to train the staff on how the place is going to run.
TX Dave says
I worked with these guys who frequented the same restaurant down by the docks every morning for breakfast. It was a real greasy spoon, cook right behind the counter. They would complain loudly about their food every day. I told them to shut up and go somewhere else, but they got a kick out of being stupid. One morning, both of their plates came out with a strategically placed pube on each serving of eggs. That shut ’em up!!
I’ve really only sent back food at fast food joints and usually it’s because those dumb asses can’t figure out what “no mayonaisse” means.
Just about anything else I can remove on my own, pickles, lettuce, tomato, etc.
I have family memebers I hate eating with because they have the huge list of demands and then nothing is right.
I tip 20 to 50% on adequate service.
Starbucks tends to fuck up my drink, but usually it’s a more expensive drink than I ordered so I just go with it.
I’ve seen people get the wrong drinks at bars which has occaisionally benefitted me.
Phantom Railfan says
My friend’s ex-wife used to always find something to complain about regardless of where or what she was eating. She claimed it was her duty as a paying customer to “drive the servers and management to a higher standard.” I once saw her try to return a half-eaten White Castle burger because it was “too soft” and once at a Greek diner when served a chicken pita that had an ever-so-slightly charred corner (I’m talking a tiny area) she repeatedly barked at the teenage waitress “Take it away, take it away, IT’S NOT RIGHT!” Her behavior at more upscale restaurants was similar, and more than once I saw her get right in the face of experienced professional servers over some imagined or manufactured deficiency. She used to get snotty about tipping, too, and more than once gave me (or her husband) a raft of shit about leaving what she felt was too much: “The waitress didn’t impress me, take two dollars away!” I chose not to dine out with her if I could help it, even if she or her husband were paying…
Speaking of tipping, I had a relative who NEVER tipped, claiming it was the only way restaurant owners could be convinced to pay the help a living wage…
As one who has worked in a variety of food service jobs over the years, I usually have a hard time complaining unless something is REALLY over-the-top bad. In fact, I can only think of one or two occasions where I received food and/or service that was poor enough for me to complain. I usually just vote with my wallet, as it were; that is; if I have more than one or two negligible experiences at any one place, said establishment simply loses my business. Bitching usually does little good, especially at fast food places which are generally staffed and managed by halfwit teens and derelicts anyway. (I oughta know, I worked at a few…)
I bet your friend’s ex-wife fancies herself as a real “foodie” who has to educate everyone within a 200 mile radius. Hence the “ex” part!
gawd that woman sounds like a real hatful of hateful. I’m glad she’s his ex now – he’s got to be happier for it.
Root 66 says
I never send food back–I’ve heard way too many horror stories. I just find another restaurant. C’lumbus Ahia has more restaurants than you can shake a stick at, so I can be as picky as I want!
If the service is poor or the food is lousy, I take my money and my feet somewhere else.
As far as frozen dinners go, I like the Boston Market meals. However, most of their portions are made for someone going to the electric chair–or something! It’s enough for two or three people, but it’s pretty good stuff.
Chuck in Belpre says
2nd on the Boston Market…good stuff. But be warned there is enough sodium in one meal to preserve an elk.
The only frozen food I like is ice cream.
WB in OH says
I think I read through enough comments, this could get ugly…see you guys later!
The only time I have ever sent anything back was because it was the completely wrong order. Otherwise, if it’s still edible, I keep my yap shut. You never know about what smartass is working in the kitchen…I don’t care how uppity the restaurant is.
Last summer, my boyfriend and I stopped at a Wendy’s for a quick lunch. He opened up his cheese burger, took two bites and found a big ol’ winged bug on the lettuce. Something like a skeeter eater. He was pissed. There was no fucking way those snot-nosed tweens didn’t see this bug. It was just too big not to notice.
So he marches up to the counter and showed the zitster the proof. She looked at him and asked “What? Do you want a new sandwich or something?” (?!?!) He stood there and watched them make a new burger, just in case someone would try to add a morsel not on the menu.
Bill in WV says
I would have one-upped his reply. When the kid said “what?”, I would have stuck my finger down my throat and projectile vomited across the counter, hopefully hitting the bastard with the evidence. God, there are so many DUMB people in this world.
That fucking kid didn’t give two shits, trust me. The dumbass kids today are having kids of their own. The stupidity is passed on from generation to generation. Pretty soon we’ll be right back where we started…cave dwellers dragging our knuckles behind us. In fact, I think a few have arrived there already.
Root 66 says
I’m surprised they didn’t try to charge him more for the bug–that’s an extra topping, you know!
You just can’t fix stupid…
WHen I worked for McDonalds (circa 1979) a State Trooper came in and asked for a receipt. I said it was on the house (all cops – automatically) but he insisted on paying and getting a receipt because it was for some guy they had in a hold up. So I jokinglyy said “You’re trying to kill him without a trial?” and I got the most brutal stare down of my young 16 year old, polystester uniform clad life.
Oh…how could I forget…My father was the food service director for several colleges. So anytime we went out to eat it was an adventure. He always made his complaint to the person at the register while paying the bill. Once, he was asked how our meal was and his reply, “It was edible”. I was always so embarrased. Some poor waitress probably got her ass chewed out for something the cook did.
“Edible” LMAO! I can see my grandfather saying something similar. Or “I ate it, didn’t I?”
Bill in WV says
“Well, I’m still upright” would have been my dad’s response.
Not to hijack the subject, but Jesco White is playing at a club here in Lexington. I have seen the documentary… so i am not at all sure what this is going to be.
Chuck in Belpre says
I once went into the local laundromat here in Belpre on a Sunday morning thinking no one would be there. As I pulled up a guy was backing a pickup truck into a space right in front of the door. Turns out he was the equipment manager for the local “semi-pro” baseball team they had in Parkersburg for a couple years. He was washing the team uniforms, towels, etc. He took up all but 2 washers in the place and ALL the driers.
I’ve NEVER heard a good thing about Olive Garden. I’ve worked on the computers at Red Lobster back in the kitchen and I will never eat there.
Red Lobster uses a lot of “farmed” fish – gross. The one and only time I went, there was a sour odor in the air.
Chuck in Belpre says
The floor in the kitchen was so slimey you had to shuffle instead of walk. No way it was like that from one dinner service.
Uggghhh. I love Rhett Lopster. So disappointing to hear that. The one we go to, no matter the time of day, is always packed. Always. Making money ass over tits as well as falling over them.
I’m supposed to have bay scallops for dinner tonight. I think I may just have a toasted cheese sandwich now. I’ve got my head wrapped arounf “fish funk” and it aint pretty.
Speaking of “fish funk”…changing up the topic a bit…but that made me think of it….
This one time…(at band camp)….My boyfriend and I were hungry for crab legs. He haul’s his cookies up to the nearest Giant Eagle grocery store to their sea food department. Meanwhile, I’m boiling the water, melting the Land-o-Lakes, stacking up the papertowels for the feast soon to be.
He gets home and I immediately drop the crab legs into the boiling water. They all didn’t fit so I gave him the first batch. Crack. Dunk….and all I here are sounds of gagging and wretching and a few WTF’s. The were rancid. Everyone of them. $65 worf. He piled the cooked and uncooked legs back into the bag and back to the grocery store to retrieve his money. He went to the service desk and dumped the pile of legs on the counter. Got his money back and a $25 gift card.
Oh yeah, that cheese sandwich is looking mighty good now.
I don’t really like seafood all that much anyway so now I’m really going to have to swallow whole bites.
I had worms crawling out of fish I got from Safeway once.
I love how the commercials these days make a big deal that Someplace or Other is using “fresh Talapia” . Uuuuhhh… Talapia is pretty much 100% farmed in tanks in AZ and fed a diet of mostly fish shit. Literally, feces.
I think I saw that on “Dirty Jobs”. 🙂
Olive garden rocks! Mmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmm
I was at taco bell yesterday. Chicken quesadilla and two beef crunchy tacos.
They were out of beef so I had to have chhicken or steak. I said chicken and didn’t think anything about it.
They tried to charge me for the chicken and I said but I wanted beef, it’s not my fault you ran out and you didn’t tell me until after I ordered. I would have been ok if he would have told me right away, but they didn’t. The dipshit manager eventually came around and they offered me free twists. I don’t do twists so I declined.
It’s basic customer service taco jerks.
Tipsey McChugney says
I have been comped for a number of meals, but in every case this occurred for good reason. Like the time I found a chard of metal in my ravioli. Or the time when I found some chunks of plastic in my sandwich. Then there was the time a perspicacious manager comped a pair of meals (without being asked to do so), because he observed some spectacularly bad service over the course of our visit to his restaurant. I am quite sure our waiter was not asked to return to work after that night.
I have only sent back food once. The whole experience was a huge mistake – brunch out on Easter Sunday?! I ordered steak and eggs – medium. What came back was a grey, overly charred boot heel. I sent it back and joked to my sister that the new steak would be blood rare. It was. That fucker was still mooing in a field. I just wrapped it up and took it home.
Another time, and only once in my life – I left a real shitty tip. We were at a Mexican restaurant and so help me God, I think those “muchahcos” deliberately tried to fuck up everything while staring at us with that “no speak-a ingles” look.. I ordered a Sangria, and they lined up a bunch of beautiful fruit but the liquid was pure freaking Kool Aid. Our dinners were wrong and cold and holy hell, I think I left something like $1.78 on a $50 order. El-screw ’em.
On the flip side, I’ve gone out with my mother who won’t say ANYTHING. We were out somewhere and she took a bite of her meal and said it was way too salty. I told her to tell them, send it back and get something else. “Oh no no no.. she proclaimed stoicly” and sat there timidly nibbling and making faces as if she was just asked to lick a dead man’s dick. I think I even tried it and it WAS overly salty but she wouldn’t say a word. Oh yeah, and I was paying.
Chuck in Bama says
“timidly nibbling and making faces as if she was just asked to lick a dead man’s dick.” My have wears that expression all the time!
Chuck in Bama says
uh….wife. Did I mention i can’t type
Chuck in Belpre says
Yes…yes you did.
Chuck in Bama says
That’s why I sit in the back of the class and quietly laugh…..
My fingers are dyslexic, too. Took 2 attempts to get “class” right. Where’s the damn spell check?
“….. timidly nibbling and making faces as if she was just asked to lick a dead man’s dick…..” Yes, but just the tip.
No, she actually had a look like she was asked to try to cram in the scrotum, too.
Thanks, madz….I just got my color back from choking on a pretzel. Jeezus! LMFAO!!
Reminds me of one at Red Robin. DH and I went there, my food was fine, his burger was RARE (major food safety no-no with ground beef). He refused to send it back, and ATE it (while I was getting icked out by the thought of the texture of undercooked ground beef). He didn’t get sick, fortunately.
Stouffer’s chicken pot pie will change your life. They’re good in the microwave (have a sleeve thingy) and they actually crisp up and taste great. And they’re big enough to satisfy. The ones I buy are fucking huge. About as big around as a salad plate and about 4″ tall.
That nipple on the foot in the Further Evidence is some Satanic shit.
I have a friend that I used to go eat with and he LOVED to fuck with the waitresses. I’m not that kind of guy. I know they aren’t cooking the food themselves, so I give them a break. He finally agreed to stop giving them shit and now we go to lunch about once a week.
We eat with my in-laws on most Saturdays for lunch. Always at a mexican place, and he always goes on and on about onions. He’s allergic to them, he claims. But they’ve gotten used to him and haven’t fucked that up in a long time.
Really old people seem to be the first to bitch at restaurants. When I see some 90 year old complaining that there isn’t the perfect amount of salt in her soup, or the presentation is off, I always wonder, How fucking bad could the Great Depression really have been if you’re going to bitch about stuff like that?
I don’t bitch at resturants. I know it’s not the waitress who is at fault (most of the time) and they’re just trying to make a buck, putting up with a lot of shit. So I tip well. If she’s cury and cute, let me tell you, she’s getting PAID.
jason, I totally agree about the old people. We went to breakfast twice at the same place with my inlaws. The first time they had “their” waitress so all went smoothly. The second time they had some new kid who, I guess, didn’t cater to their every whim. My MIL kept making comments – LOUDLY – about “how this one needs to take a few lessons” blah blah blah. I wanted to dive face first into a vat of oatmeal.Her husband went to tip her and my MIL actually got PISSED that he was giving her a decent tip.
Fucking crazy. What is it with old people? They claimed they had to eat shoe leather and flour straight from the sack back in the day and now you can’t please them. And what’s the deal with them driving so fucking slow? You’d think that time would be of the essence for someone who’s up in years. Most of them just seem to say, “Oh shit, I’m going to die soon. Better sit on as many benches as I can.”
T. Farty McAppleass says
We went to a Taco Bell one time and my wife ordered soft tacos. No big deal. But when she opened them up, there was NO MEAT in them. She took them back to the counter and the manager was jumping through hoops. “Here’s two more tacos, what else can I give you, free of charge?”
She should have said “Your dick on a stick” without batting an eye.
A view from the other side;
I worked in a half-way nice restaurant in a small-town for years, and I can tell you, complaints come from one of four catergories of people;
LEGITIMATE COMPLAINT: Order a medium-rare burger, get a hockey puck. These people are few and far between, but a descent establishment will recognize the mistake and do everything to fix it.
KNOW-IT-ALLS: Fancy themselves very intelligent when it comes to the preperation and serving of food. These are the ones who complain that their steak is medium-rare, when they ordered medium. They are nearly always incorrect, but will voice their opinion loudly and often. I trust the guy in back in the white hat and apron.
FREEBIE SEEKERS: Looking for a discount or free meal, plain and simple. “This was very under/over seasoned”. This is such an arbitrary/relative comment to make that there is no way to prove or disprove it. This will almost always come after 90% of the meal has been finished.
ASSHOLES: By far the largest group. Some people are just dicks.
As far as kitchen or wait-staff retaliation goes, I’ve heard the horror stories, too. But I can tell you, that ANY person in ANY restaurant that is caught or even accused of messing with food will not be allowed anywhere near food for quite some time. Chefs tend to be proud of it, and have some integrity.
And tip your server. All they are is glorified conveyor belts that get yelled at for the cooks F-up.
Bill in WV says
Sunshine is firmly planted in that last category on your list.
As a former member of the waitstaff crowd, I agree with your 4 categories wholeheartedly, and the tipping, but not about the glorified conveyor belt thing. If all it took to be a waiter was the shuttling of food from the back room to the front room it’d be a heck of a lot easier job. 🙂
Here’s a rule of thumb when you’re ordering from so-called Steak Houses. Order your steak one level less done that what you really want.
If you want Medium Rare – order Rare
Medium – order Medium Rare
Well Done – order Medium
The fucktards always overcook the meat in these places.
Jeff, that man in the YouTube video doesn’t have an ass, that thing is an AK47.
I can’t remember ever sending a meal back. It it’s close enough, I’ll deal with it.
Last summer at a McDonalds I did ask for new food though. The teenager in charge of mopping had spilled the entire mop bucket in front of the counter area. She was working on cleaning it up, but there were still puddles everywhere. There was 1 wet floor sign by the entrance. My family made it to the counter to order. My husband and daughter filled the drinks and found a table.
My son, who was 2 and had a full leg cast, stayed with me. When the food came, I started carrying the tray to the table. I was on the other side of the restaurant from the wet floor sign. I hit one of those wet spots and fell straight back. The tray went flying, I hit my head on the floor and fell very hard on my butt into a huge puddle. None of the employees came out to see if I was okay. The manager just stood there staring at me. He finally asked if I had seen the wet floor sign. I replied that no, there was not one in this area.
My husband came over to check on me and asked them to make new food since ours was all now in a puddle on their wet floor. I’m still pissed about the whole thing.
Oh man – LAWSUIT!
Holy crap! You’re lucky you didn’t break your ass and the owner’s lucky the employee’s aren’t saying “Welcome to Jera’s. Would u like fries with that?”
How much was that woman awarded for spilling hot coffee on herself?
I once took a header on a slick floor at a Qdoba in St. Louis. I’m not sure if there was a wet floor sign or not. I wasn’t really hurt, just my pride. I went down hard and lost my drink in the process.
The manager ran out, he was genuinely concerned so I appreciate that.
My ex had pink eye about a year ago while working at starbucks and her dumb man cunt of a manager told her to still work and to tell people it’s something else. The GM showed up and sent her home immediately.
I see so many instances where a “manager” is just a promoted floor douche with possibly even less common sense.
Fair question about the hot coffee, but the award was relatively small; McD’s fucked up big time, serving coffee at 180 degrees. They were lucky she wasn’t litigious. She got mid-six figures which just about covered her hospitalization and subseqent burn treatments. Her avarice is a myth spread by the McD PR people. They spent about twice as much money spreading the rumor than they paid her.
I have only sent a meal back once it was at a Chili’s in Pittsburgh ordered my steak rare, it came out well. The waitress asked and I told her she insisted I ordered it that way. Luckily I was with two people who both told her she ordered it rare, she always orders it rare. She was like “what do you want?” And I replied a steak the way I ordered it. Then the manager came over and gave me attitude as if we were scamming them and lastly the returned steak was rare but everything else on the plate was ice cold.
About15 years ago I watched two women at Outback return every item they had ordered and eaten some of with the line “this is what I ordered but it isn’t what I wanted” so they had 4 appetizers and 4 entrees while their kids tore through the place. Had I been their waitress I would have told them to learn to read and f – off, which I suppose is why I don’t work in food service.
And about 10 years ago I was in Taco Bell outside of BWI and this was when Taco bell had their “if you don’t like it we will replace it guarantee”. My friend and I watched a couple of dirt bags get food eat all but one bite then complain “this didn’t have sour cream” or “I said no lettuce” and get a replacement. Seriously these were 59 cent tacos
If you’ve ever stopped by the Howard Johnson’s at BWI (assuming it still exists) you’ve visited my home for two years in the very early 80’s. Some of the staff started calling me “Howard”. There was a group playing in the lounge, and I became their weekend roadie for a year or so. Nice country.
I have sent a steak back that came to me rare. It was at a place near work that we went to regularily for breakfast and occasionally lunch.
There are two things I like well done, eggs and steak. The cook always got the eggs right after a few teething pains, so I figured the steak would be no issue.
Turns out the cook was one of those fanatical meat freaks of the opinion that well done is a major steak sin. I told him (small place, he was bitchin at the waitress that steak wasn’t supposed to be burnt to a crisp, so I go over and tell him I know its not supposed to be that way, but its the way *I* like it, and I ain’t eating something thats still bleeding unless its spread eagled infront of me with an offer I can’t refuse. He done that steak up good, probably thinking I’d be bitching about it being to well done, he got it spot on. I let him know he nailed it and next time, when I say well done, I mean well done.
On the topic of horrid kitchen floors, I was in a local high end hotel today doing setups for our organization and the kitchen and every back hallway and room looks like a disaster. FIlthy floors. Sticky floors. Dirty. Grimey.. How it manages to pass health inspection is beyond me, but I certainly know where I am never going to eat anything. You see a lot of eye opening things when you are behind the scenes in these “high end” establishments. Front of the house is spotless (they are the destination for visiting celebrities to stay at) and quite the nice front. Behind the employee only doors, christ on a crutch, would it be that hard to clean stuff your regular patrons don’t see?
sOUNDS LIKE EVERY EPISODE OF KITCHEN NIGHTMARES.
Olive Garden is the lesser of two evils if the other choice is Red Lobster.
I did send an order of nachos back at a Red Robin (coming soon to the East Coast). Just had the manager take them off the bill because they were so bad.
Other than that, nothin’. I even got a tuna sandwich at a cafe on Rt. 2 (WV) one time that was two slices of white bread, with just some chunk tuna between the bread slices.
As for me right now, I’m sitting in an airport Chili’s waiting to go home. After not being able to eat due to hospital test, lukewarm Alpo would sound good right now.
Good news for me is it is serious, but not deadly. Apparently a blood transfusion from 54 years ago when I was a baby has slowly given me cirohsis of the liver. Hopefully I’ll be around to torture you guys with my anecdotes for years to come. …and seriously guys, thanks for keeping me in your thoughts. I appreciate it!
Could be worse.
Forrest Gump fucked that whore Jenny and that poofter from Philadelphia died of AIDS from it.
Chuck in Belpre says
I shall play some Slick Six in your honor.
CC: Shit! Welp, it should ease your mind that we’re all here for you and will be glad to kick you when your down. What are dysfunctional friends for anyway? Seriously though, I only wish the best for you..xo
hot fuzz says
Good to hear. Be well.
Best wishes, Clintcurtis! Take care of yourself.
I know you once made it big, lost it, then came a long way back, this time to make it happy. As a good family man, and just a good man all around, you deserve another forty years to enjoy a life you worked hard for. I think you have Karma on your side, but if you ever need reenforcements, let me know. I’m pulling for you, as, I know, we all are.
Take care of yourself, and don’t forget to boogie.
Clint Curtis – all good wishes for you.
T. Farty McAppleass says
Hear! Hear! For Clint Curtis! Wish you the best, friend.
Have a drama free recovery (treatment?) Clint.
Thanks guys. It was really, really scary yesterday, but the news came out better than expected. Looks like about 6 months of stuff, then just taking pills (none of them the kind I’d LIKE to take, lol)
Gotta go into Anchorage for a throat scope next month, and they are making me take along someone to drive me back to the hotel. I told my 17 year old daughter that she was going to be my designated driver. She said, “But Dad, I’ve never driven in a big city before!”
I told her, “Don’t worry, I’ll be sedated!”
My best to you too CC… May Health, Happiness and Hungarain Hula Girls always be yours for the the taking.
CC: Be sure to let us know how the scope goes. We gotta keep tabs on you, ya know. 😉
clintcurtis, we’re all hoping and praying for your good health. If you can’t fix it, I hope the cirhosis can be controlled.
I used to work with a woman that sent everything back, was rude to wait staff and condescending to everyone in her path. I went to lunch with her ONCE.
As we were leaving the restaurant, I ‘remembered’ that I’d left my sweater at the table. I ran back in, apologized to everyone that I encountered, and left a 100% tip on the table in an attempt to make up for her horrid behavior.
As a former waitress, I can attest to the horrifying acts committed by annoyed cooks in the kitchen. “Waiting…” should be considered a documentary, but with uglier employees and more drugs.
Reverse the last part. “Waiting…” should be considered a documentary, but showcasing BETTER LOOKING employees and LESS drugs.
The reality is the opposite…
I’m doing laundry again and scrambling for quarters here at Rancho Malario Swamp Ground and Leeching Lakes Fisher’s Haven. Excellant dryers! Space 14 left her lacy things just to tease me. I’m sure it. And hey…I’m a tighty whitie guy. Hanes M. “My boys need a house” as Kramer once said after trying boxers for a few days. And I double up on the dryer sheets. One just seems like not enough for total denim care.
I tried to send back the entire buffet at the Rio in Vegas once. Three Bloody Marys had me convinced the customer is always right. They comped me and I stayed through brunch. Good times!
Frozen meat is a scary thing unless it’s on a pizza. For some reason you just don’t care at that point once you set the oven at 400. Cook the bastard and comrnce to shoveling it in. In fact I’ve yet to find fault with frozen pizza meat.
Only thing I ever complained about or sent back was a plate of nachos at and broken glass Don Shula’s in Miami Lakes . YES. Broken glass. Apparently someone in the kitchen had been having a drink or seven and broke their wineglass, shards of which ended up in our table’s nachos.
The staff was so horrified they comped our entire bill, drinks, other food, EVERYTHING. We tipped on the amount the bill would have been and everyone was happy.
We did have to sign a form that waived them of responsibility – but that wasn’t a problem since we saw the glass before we started eating the nachos. And we had had a few cocktails ourselves. I wonder how many the staff had that they didn’t notice…?
Anyway. All is well that ends well and we ate well and they were tipped well. So I guess everyone gets a happy ending.
Thank you ever so much for “Yes…yes you did.”
Chuck in Belpre says
I can never tell when you are tweaking me.
I don’t remember having tweaked you.
I thought your comment was subtile and pithy. You say a lot in very few words. I take many words to say anything at all. I admire your writing style.
Chuck in Bama says
I thought it was good, too
Five days off, including my birfday. Batteries completely recharged. Feels awesome.
When we lived in NC, I would send food back if it wasn’t right, because people took pride in their work their, even if it was a low paying job, becasue they appreciated having a job. (This was in the mountains, I’m sure the rest of the state is not the same).
In Florida, I never send food back, because I really don’t want to know what Mexican semen tastes like.
Happy belated Birthday, AngryWhiteGuy! Hope it was fantastic.
AWG……Happy Birfday. And Many More!
I’m assuming cumin.
Bill in WV says
Happy birthday man. You’re one up on us again.
I’ll send food back if it’s not what I ordered (it happens) or if it’s just ‘wrong’ (cold if it’s supposed to be hot) or of course if it’s not cooked properly, but that rarely happens and we rarely eat out so my opportunities to look like a total douche are few and far between. I figure thought that if I’m paying for it I might a well get what I ordered and how it was described to me.
Shoot – I spent many years in the food and beverage biz, and took pride in my work, so would WANT to know if something wasn’t right. But only if it really wasn’t right. Those chumps who would wolf down half a meal then complain about what they just ate, expecting to get another Big Mac/calamari appetizer/filet/martini for nothing were a royal pain, but what can you do? The customer is always right (the first time).
I eat out a lot. If a server is good they get tipped even if the meal gets fucked. But if they act indifferent then they still get tipped but not as much
One big thing is don’t slam my plate or silverware down.
Here’s a good one for you. My company attended a trade show in March in Las Vegas.
We hosted a customer appreciation night at a high end club from 7 to 11 PM, open bar, a band, and a buffet including bacon wrapped scallops, sushi, shrimp, little fillets on a stick, tons of other food. We invited 250 guests plus our gang of 40 plus employees.
At 11:00 PM, they basically kicked us out of the ball room, so many of us went to the bar which was jam packed.
A huge muscle head bouncer comes pushing through and tells us we must move because we were standing in the walkway and the fire code dictates that it must remain open. His face is beet red and he is screaming and yelling at everyone like a crazy person.
Of course, there is no where to move to since all the tables are full and the bar is packed three deep with people mashed up against each other, so the bouncer starts shoving some of our people to the back of the club and knocks over our female salesperson from Georgia who weighs about 90 pounds and sprains her wrist.
At this point, I lose my shit and demand to see the manager. I tell her about her Steroid Bouncer’s behavior and demand an ambulance for our injured girl and I ask another guy in our party to dial 911 to get the police over here. Then, I ask several other patrons for their name and cell phone number since we will need them as witnesses when we press assault charges against the bouncer and sue the club for injuries.
The manager excuses herself claiming that she wants to go to her office for a minute to view the altercation on video tape and tells me to stand “right here”.
She is back in a few minutes and asks us to leave immediately and the club will not charge us for the evening, all comp. The bill was just under $30,000
Tipsey McChugney says
I would have still pressed charges against the bouncer. I am hoping that you do so. Mr Muscle-Head needs to face the music for his steroid-induced behavior.
Sounds like Mr. Muscle Head is now back to asking “You want fries with that?” after costing the club $30,000
Actually, Martha (the sales rep from Georgia) iced down her wrist and did not require any medical attention, but it was swollen and sore for the next couple of days.
A Vice President from our company phoned the club the next day and had a long talk with the assistant manager and Mister Steroid was fired. They were very apologetic.
I agree that Martha should have pressed assault charges but we could not talk her into it.
Personally, I wish that I was a big, burly son of a bitch since I would liked to have ripped Mister Steroid’s head off. Unfortunately, I am 5′ 9″ and weigh 170 so he would have broken me in half. However, I do have a really big mouth and have the ability and vocabulary to argue better than a Philadelphia lawyer.
Chuck in Belpre says
A stomp to the side of the knee will bring down the largest man. Just sayin’.
I have worked in a few restaurants, on both sides of the kitchen door, and I have NEVER seen anyone purposely mess with anyone’s food whether it had been sent back or not. I have seen some sub-standard food make it out to the table, usually the fault of dumbass or lazy cooks, and I have seen many a server take food to the wrong table. This is really annoying when you are the cook because you often have to re-make things on the fly, through no fault of your own, and it messes up your timing. Timing is everything in a commercial kitchen during dinner rush.
One of the few times I got to have fun with a customers order was when a couple guys wanted hotter than suicide chicken wings – “as hot as you can make them.” We spent 20 minutes boiling down sauces and concocting up the hottest combination of ingredients we had on hand. The wings were so hot that the guys couldn’t eat them all…but they stuck their heads in the kitchen, with heat tears roling down their faces, to thank us.
I love that! The hottest food I ever experienced was at a Thai restaurant in Manhattan – MANY years ago so I forget the name. One of my dining companions gave that challenge to the kitchen and I wish I had a picture. That was the reddest, sweatiest face I have ever seen in my life. My dish was awesome but adrenaline inspiring. I cannot imagine what his was like but I imagine he has some very interesting bathroom visits the next day (pardon my frankness).
BTW – am I the ONLY person who has ever had broken glass in their food? Trust me, at that time I was 36 and still easy on the eyes and my two dining companions were female, 6 and 10 years younger than me and one of them had worked in one of the seediest bars in Miami as a bartender/waitress so we were all sweet, cute, friendly and waitstaff and cook sympathetic. We were also actors (which means I and my other companion had each done a stint waitressing ourselves). We know that we had been nice and easy going. I KNOW (and feel that the waitstaff as well knew) that one or more of the cooks was on the sauce pretty heavily that night but I cant believe I am alone in this experience?!?
As a waiter, I’ve had glasses break in my hand. One night in particular, I had a table of 20, comprised of 18-19 year old ladies. (Our drinking age is 19, only a few of them ordered liquor.) At this particular restaurant, we always seemed to be running short of the “non-alcoholic” drinking glasses – pulling them straight from the commercial dishwasher and out to the floor was common practice. Sure enough, with the boiling hot glass dipped into a bin of ice cubes then filled with chilled Coke; the glass cracked in my grip, slicing the palm of my hand. Now, at my current gov’ment office job the sight of blood would be enough to get sent home for the day – no questions asked, with pay. As a server in the middle of a dinner rush in a packed restaurant, with a table of 20 on the go, it doesn’t work that way. I went to the back, rinsed my hand in cold water, had the manager sterilize, gauze and tape on it, put a rubber glove on and went back to work…all within 3 minutes. A quick MJ joke later (I was wearing one glove) and I had the sympathetic ear of every beautiful young women at that table. As a server, honesty and humour always worked best for me. That was a great tip night.
After a few weeks reading this site on my Dumb Phone, decided to log on, but of course, I chose a night when I could not respond to this question, simply because unless the food really sucks, I don’t usually send it back. Guess I don’t want to be perceived a pain in the ass, much like the people that were when I was a lowly waitress.
If women had ball sacks, mine owuld be sweated off today.
Years ago I attended a hen night dinner and discovered that I was the only member of the group that didn’t have to be loaded in through the skylight with a crane. I’m talking about women so fat they looked like piles of tits with faces and shoes. Reality television-sized ladies. While I ordered a steak and bake, they ordered freakin’ salads and then picked at them like birds (“Why, you don’t have an eating disorder, you must just be big boned!” was what I was apparently supposed to think, as they cast scandalized glances at me while I cleaned my plate.)
The lady who organized the event, Princess Redneck With Cash von Bitchbag did nothing but preen and complain and generally act like total trash throughout the entire evening, obviously convinced that we were all mightily impressed. It was horrible. She ordered the most expensive dinner on the menu and then complained about every single item (and it was ludicrous how obviously manufactured those complaints were) and sent every course back to the kitchen. Each time she did this she called the waitress over and explained in tedious, sarcastic, loud detail exactly what she had found wrong, and exactly what she expected (as though she was accustomed to finer things, or had ever seen a fucking lobster outside Animal Planet.) Meanwhile I prayed that the cook and his assistants were passing every replacement dish down a wank line before it went out. At the end of the evening, I hung back and went to apologize to the entire staff. Never again. NEVER AGAIN.