Please tell me
how it is my fault or the husband's fault if our order is f'd up?
We had lunch today at a local bar & grill. It wasn't particularly busy there today -- in fact, there were only a few other people ordering food. We ordered a pitcher of beer, and the husband ordered a crispy chicken sandwich with fries while I ordered a chicken club sandwich with something they call "frips," basically potato chips they fry up there.
When our order came out, the husband had a grilled chicken sandwich with fries, and I had a chicken club sandwich with fries.
Let's review.
The chicken on the husband's sandwich was supposed to be breaded and CRISPY, not skinless and grilled. I was supposed to have FRIPS, not fries. So I remind the waitress that I ordered frips, which she had repeated to me when I placed the order, and she reacted sort of like she was hearing it for the first time. And like she didn't know what the hell to do about it. I decided it wasn't worth the trouble and told her I'd just eat the fries. Then I told her that the husband's sandwich was wrong, and she took it back to get the right one. She came back with a crispy chicken sandwich and a giant pile of FRIPS on his plate.
Instead of FRIES.
The husband does not like FRIPS.
So then he gets mad and goes and tells the waitress he had ordered fries and now had frips and that wasn't what he wanted. She said she gave him frips because she had given me fries and I guess that was her way of giving me frips.
Except I had already told her the fries would be fine and the husband didn't ask for frips. So I guess she made an executive decision. The wrong one.
So she brought him some fries and by this time she was acting all annoyed with us like we were somehow in the wrong for letting her know the many ways she fucked up our order. She said something about the cook being mad at her today.
What?
I don't give a shit what's going on between you and the cook, lady -- we placed an order, and it was all FUBAR'd. The rest is all your problem.
Oh -- and I almost forgot. The chicken on my chicken club sandwich, which I believe is supposed to be served with melted cheese, was COLD. Cold! I didn't even bother to bring that up. I ate about 3/4 of my sandwich and called it good.
What a disappointment. The husband left her a $3.00 tip. Do you think she finally got our point?
Yeah, probably not. But we laughed about it for a good five minutes after leaving the place.
We had lunch today at a local bar & grill. It wasn't particularly busy there today -- in fact, there were only a few other people ordering food. We ordered a pitcher of beer, and the husband ordered a crispy chicken sandwich with fries while I ordered a chicken club sandwich with something they call "frips," basically potato chips they fry up there.
When our order came out, the husband had a grilled chicken sandwich with fries, and I had a chicken club sandwich with fries.
Let's review.
The chicken on the husband's sandwich was supposed to be breaded and CRISPY, not skinless and grilled. I was supposed to have FRIPS, not fries. So I remind the waitress that I ordered frips, which she had repeated to me when I placed the order, and she reacted sort of like she was hearing it for the first time. And like she didn't know what the hell to do about it. I decided it wasn't worth the trouble and told her I'd just eat the fries. Then I told her that the husband's sandwich was wrong, and she took it back to get the right one. She came back with a crispy chicken sandwich and a giant pile of FRIPS on his plate.
Instead of FRIES.
The husband does not like FRIPS.
So then he gets mad and goes and tells the waitress he had ordered fries and now had frips and that wasn't what he wanted. She said she gave him frips because she had given me fries and I guess that was her way of giving me frips.
Except I had already told her the fries would be fine and the husband didn't ask for frips. So I guess she made an executive decision. The wrong one.
So she brought him some fries and by this time she was acting all annoyed with us like we were somehow in the wrong for letting her know the many ways she fucked up our order. She said something about the cook being mad at her today.
What?
I don't give a shit what's going on between you and the cook, lady -- we placed an order, and it was all FUBAR'd. The rest is all your problem.
Oh -- and I almost forgot. The chicken on my chicken club sandwich, which I believe is supposed to be served with melted cheese, was COLD. Cold! I didn't even bother to bring that up. I ate about 3/4 of my sandwich and called it good.
What a disappointment. The husband left her a $3.00 tip. Do you think she finally got our point?
Yeah, probably not. But we laughed about it for a good five minutes after leaving the place.
posted by PlatinumGirl at 10:46 PM
4 Comments:
Hahaha. The sentence "Let's review" cracked me up for some reason :)
Bad service is one of the worst things a person can have.
Sorry about your order. In NY last weekend, I saw someone with fried potato chips and melted cheese. Those looked good.
Ian: Me too!
Peachy: Fried potato chips & melted cheese -- sounds weird at first, but then I realized it kinda sounds like nachos!
That's the norm down here in Florida. It seems to be getting better but it still bites. Grrr..I hate bad service!
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