Monday, May 09, 2011

gonna bitch about it

I almost don't wanna even bother.  I haven't posted in ages, and I haven't even been online on the ol' trusty desktop in days.  I even turned the damn thing off a few days ago knowing I wouldn't see it for at least most of two days, and then I managed to add at least a day to that.

I do have my fancy new phone, however the battery life has left something to be desired.  Finally getting near the desktop however may have fixed all that for me.  I googled my problem and visited some forums and went via the phone to the Android market for what I hope is a fix.

I also took the boys out for dinner tonight, and this why I actually sat down to write.  The experience was one of the worst and the best I've had out in a long time.

It was the worst because my food was ruined.  The server put our food down, I didn't quite look at it, though I did make sure we had everything and it was all in its proper place.

And then I looked at the plate in front of me.  Immediately I saw that my sweet potato chips looked mostly burnt, though picking through them later I realized that not more than about thirty percent were REALLY burnt.  Most of the rest were merely overdone.

I pointed this out to the server, and he brought me a new unburned order as quickly as he was able.  And here's a little sidetrack that's sorta helpful.

Over the years I've taken part in a useless battle that occurs in far too many restaurants, a battle that pits the front and back of house against each other.  It's usually the kitchen that makes this battle ever happen at all, but then the servers are forced to deal with it the best they can.

And often this might mean that the server would rather face an unhappy customer with food that's obviously not right than mention to the kitchen what he/she can too easily see.  Or maybe they're used to seeing the food that way and don't get that it's burnt, or maybe they see it and don't give a shit.

Worse is that someone in the kitchen was willing to send this out.  They cooked food for too long and made it suck, but rather than throw it away and do it right, they tossed it on the plate and sent it out.  They couldn't have not know that they made bad food.

I put my chicken sandwich together and cut it in half.  It was a whole boneless, skinless breast, both lobes, and they were still attached via the bit of cartilege between them.  That bothers me, but I'm not going to be a dick about that.  It's a matter of taste.

I bit into the sandwich and once again knew immediately that it too was over done.  I hoped that it was just a little tough because I started at the thinner end, but too soon I was into the thicker meat and was having to rip bites out, and the chicken was pulling out of the bun, and the sandwich was essentially inedible.  If I'd cooked it for myself, and if I suddenly forgot how to cook and made it this bad, I'd have eaten it.  I'm not really one to waste food.

But I'm not paying for food that is so poorly done.  I couldn't eat the sandwich, and I really tried.  After not catching the server's eye for far too long I was finally able to lodge my complaint.  He took the plate of over done food away and spoke with the manager who was kind enough to not make me pay.

He didn't talk to me.  He didn't offer to do anything to make me feel better, and I don't really know what I would have wanted of him.  I didn't eat the food, and he didn't make me pay for the bad parts.  I left the store unsatisfied, having not gotten anywhere close to what I wanted despite my willingness as a customer.

And now I'm hungry, and I shouldn't be, and because I haven't been at the house much for a couple of days or so there really isn't anything here to eat.  That's entirely my fault.

By this point the kids were done eating.  I wasn't going to make them sit and wait for me to get and eat a new entree, and I wasn't willing to sit and wait and then pay for food when my experience had been so marred.

But then we sat at the table.  I munched on the bowl of not burned chips and the extra side of fries I let The Boy get since we were out for his birthday.  He didn't like his other side, black beans, but because it wasn't what he expected, but I enjoyed them and brought them with the other leftovers.

We had a really nice time as we sat and waited.  I had to pay the bill and finish a beer, and they were both not quite impatient and sooo ready to go just yet.  And it was a really nice time.  The munching had taken the edge off my hunger, so my mood had been helped by that, and the boys were both full and happy.

And we just hung out for a little bit.  We chatted.  I saw pictures that Big Brother took with his phone at his school's cultural fair.  I even got to see a picture of some kid's rendition of Abraham Lincoln leading the Hebrew people out of Egypt.

It was cool in the end.