Forum Moderators: open
Turns out a mouse had fallen from an exposed pipe about 10' overhead, hit one girl on the shoulder and bounced onto the table, landing smack on her plate... dead.
...people go to great lengths to avoid paying!
I was out walking with my wife, and decided to stop at a fast food outlet. Waiting in the queue, my wife says "Gee I'm hungry". I say "You can get something to eat too". She says no, she doesn't want to. I get my tuna roll and we carry on walking. I'm about two thirds through my sub and she says "Gee, I'm hungry" (again). I say "Well why didn't you get yourself something. She: "Are you crazy. Didn't you see how the guy who prepared your sandwich was picking his nose when he prepared yours".
TJ
Doesn't top the dead mouse though ;)
Sun shining through window and through glasses
Mixed in with the water and copious amounts of chipped ice I can see parts of cockroaches floating in the bottoms of several glasses - partial thoraxes, legs, etc.
Decide then to no longer frequent the restaurant.
Caveat: I'm certain, without the benefit of bright light shining directly through the glass, no one would ever detect the presence of the bug parts.
Gulp, gulp, ummmmmmm.
Mixed in with the water and copious amounts of chipped ice I can see parts of cockroaches floating in the bottoms of several glasses - partial thoraxes, legs, etc.
Protein shake?
When we got there we were given a glass of pink champagne (quite horrible), the menu and asked to order. We said we'd order when we had read the menu. 2 min later the waitres came back and asked us to order and we told her that we weren't ready yet. She asked us to order soon as all 3 seatings were booked and they needed our table soon after. We were quite amazed but ordered.
The starter was fine but then came the main course. My wild mushrooms were gritty with sand and Nick_Ws guinnea fowl tasted distinctly like chicken. I asked for a new serving of mushrooms but the new one was still gritty from sand and I suspected it was the same serving just rearranged and reheated, so I sent it back again. Still the same so I decided I had had enough. Nick then asked the chef who was passing through about the difference between guinnea fowl and chicken, indicating that this was chicken, not guinnea fowl. The chef denied this and said that Nick_W didn't know what he was talking about. Very soon this turned into a blazing row, ending with Nick_W spitting on the floor and asking to have the bill posted as he was not prepared to pay untill he'd had the 'guinnea fowl' tested to see what it really was. We never heard from them.
After stopping to spit, I made a U-turn, and mad as heck, marched in the place with the sandwich, unwrapped so the patrons in line could see, and asked to see the manager.
Can you believe they offered to make me another? Ewww.
Can you believe that while everyone in line was saying "Eewww", nobody actually left the line and went elsewhere?
They USED to offer a $2,000 cash prize to any two people who could finish their largest deep dish pizza -36" across, as I recall- in two hours. A few had done it, she said.
On a busy Saturday night, two burly inebriated chaps made an attempt. 30 minutes later they both started puking, as well dressed diners suspended their own meals in revulsion.
The duo refused to quit even though management tried to throw them out. Patrons were outraged and some left. The gorging/puking cycle continued for another hour but their attempt failed.
That restaurant no longer has pizza eating competitions.
Nick
Wifey and I went to an Italian Bistro (CitySearch Blurb: "Experience Venice, at the hottest new restaurant in the Mission.")
Been there many times, no prob. The regular waiter knows us and always seats us promptly. However this time,
Enter the waiter from hell
The regular waiter apologizes, saying -and this the truth- "He's a new waiter. He thinks he's still in Europe."
By this time I banish the *** from my table and the regular guy is serving us.
I'm never going into that place again. You drop $125 (plus an additional $25 for tip) for dinner for two, I expect, at least, competent service that follows common restaurant protocols. And the meal I actually ordered.
Whew! Feels good to get that off my chest.
[edited by: eelixduppy at 9:55 pm (utc) on Feb. 18, 2009]
Anyhow...
I have a few horror stories from the other side
When I was waiting tables I once...
-Spilled half a strawberry daiquiri on a woman.
-Had someone back into me spilling two strawberry daiquiris directly down the front of my white shirt at the beginning of a shift. (got GREAT sympathy tips tho':)
-Dropped liver pate on a gent's brown suitcoat and thought he didn't notice since he didn't say anything, so neglected to tell him (he DID notice, and didn't hesitate to mention it to my manager).
That was in several years of waiting tables...I think everyone should have to wait tables for a year to appreciate just how difficult it is...it also makes you a much more humble human being.
Last story...didn't happend to me, but someone else at the place I worked...the "main draw" is "All you can eat family style chicken dinner". After bringing out several plates of chicken to a party of 8, there were no chicken bones to be seen...upon further inspection after the party left, there was a nice pile strewn about the floor. Be nice to your servers...no matter how bad they are...DON'T STIFF THEM...in the States they are making $2.65 / hr. as a wage. In cases of horrible service or experiences though, you should be able to have your meal comped or be given gift certificates if the restaurant has decent policies.
Not so much any more, but on more than one occasion in my younger days I was politely, but firmly, advised along these lines:
"When we advertise "All you can Eat" we aren't really throwing down the gauntlet for you to pick up again and again and again and again and again ... you have already had ALL you can eat, now go home!"
Perhaps the only time it ever bugged me though is a friend and I wandered into one of our favorite mom-n-pop type places to discover the all ya care to eat shrimp was, alas, no longer a listed special. We elected a different dinner rather than departing.
Shortly thereafter, folks at a nearby table asked why the all ya care to eat shrimp was no longer an available choice. The server looked at us, pointedly abruptly and all but gutter growled her answer -"Because of THEM!"
Uh, in a word, OUCH!
Local IHOP closes at 10:00PM according to sign. Walk in there at 9:45 and they loudly remind you that they close in 15 minutes. It's not as if I'm going to linger all night over my pattymelt and a bottle of fine wine!
I call over the waitress, and show her the insect remains. She takes my plate into the kitchen and returns with a fresh scoop of potatoes. I refuse to eat anymore and complained to the manager who hands me a bill with 20 cents taken off for the potatoes.
"Because of THEM!"
my mother, being very wise, actually
did the exact reverse.
two very (ahem)generous sized ladies used to come
in every friday night and raid the buffet
for many platefuls of the most expensive
item. for beverages, they only ever wanted
water.
they were never treated any differently than
anyone else.
as a result they *raved* about this great place
to everyone that would listen.
win-win
Ordered favorite pizza from favorite pizza joint.. hawaiian with shrimp and mushroom - YUM - and my sis-in-law ordered her favorite.. which I forget what it was, but it had salami on it.
What I had forgotten, was that this pizza shop actually had a west end and an east end shop.. and I had just the week before moved house, which meant I was now in the east end zone. The guy who owned the west end was lovely and we'd never had a less than perfect pizza from him... the east end had a less than exemplary reputation.
The pizzas duly arrived. Sis opened hers... darn near a two inch crust border.. burnt.. not appetizing, but she ate it anyway.. to find none of the salami slices had been peeled of their wrapping. Lovely.
Mine, on the other hand looked good.. good topping coverage, not burnt... bright yellow pineapple and pink plump shrimps.
Took one bite.
Swallowed.
Ran for bathroom.
Spent the next half hour there.
Will spare you the details, but if I were to tell you, they would include the words 'projectile' and 'vomiting'.
Seems the east end shop had run out of shrimp... so had substituted mussels.... to which I am violently allergic.
An hour later I was still pretty seedy, but sis got on the phone and tore a strip off this shop.. they flatly denied that it was even possible that the salami hadn't been peeled. They also got highly uppity about the subbed mussels, saying that we were ungrateful and that mussels were more expensive than shrimp and we had got a bargain. No apology. No accepting fault. No nothing.
Suffice to say, never bought pizza from there again.
:} Did work out a very satisfactory deal with the nice guy from the other end of town who would deliver to me for a couple of extra dollars and on condition that we never told anyone... and who never subbed anything without asking first.
However, having already expounded in aforementioned literary fashion, I politely decline to do so again.
Onya
Woz
A guy came in, and ordered a couple of sandwiches while his two kids sat down at one of the tables. I stared making his sandwiches, and both of his kids start screaming as loud as they possibly could, for absolutely no reason at all. And the guy does absolutely nothing about it. And naturally, the customers that were in line behind him just left.
Whoever said there is no such thing as a stupid question has never worked in a fast food restaurant.
"Which is bigger, the foot long sandwich or the six inch?"
"What's on the turkey sub?"
I could go on and on with stories of all the stupid and/or rude customers I had to deal with while working there. But suffice it to say, it was the worst job I ever had.
I call over the waitress, and show her the insect remains. She takes my plate into the kitchen and returns with a fresh scoop of potatoes. I refuse to eat anymore and complained to the manager who hands me a bill with 20 cents taken off for the potatoes.
What and exemplary situation of customer service for all to learn from;) Reminds me of the commercial where the waitress wipes off the mustard and mayo on the side of the table and hands it back to the patron.
I was eating a sandwich at one day with the lights out. It tasted terrible. I kept taking bites I just could not place the taste. It tasted familiar. I turned on the light and the bread was completely dark green.
In a restaurant anything can happen. People have been given cold food, I heard a table of 3 were forgotten, a food fight broke out, the wrong dishes were served, served to the wrong table, or not served at all. Drinks were mixed up or mixed poorly.
There's always a moment in the middle of a shift when you pause and can feel the success or failure of the evening. The energy of the staff and the customers permeates the room and it's easy to tell if there's a synergy or if you're going down in flames.
Being in the biz you get used to what to look for in choosing an unfamiliar restaurant. There are clues as to what you can expect (on average) though there's no guarantee. Even a Michelin 4 star has it's share of incidents.
What makes or breaks a restaurant - IMHO - is how they handle those screw-ups. Do you get 50cents off for the potatoes or did you get a bottle of good wine or dinner paid for? My wife and her partner strive to ensure the customers are well taken care of and that has made all the difference in our small town.
...in the States they are making $2.65 / hr. as a wage.
That depends on which state you're in. Some states actually require waitstaff be paid the regular minimum wage (which, in most places, is still dirt... but considerably more than $2.65).
I always tip for decent service, and always tip well for good service... but I'll not tip someone who hasn't done a decent polite job. If you can't serve people graciously enough to earn a tip, you should find a job outside the service industries (which I did... hehehe. Can't stand dealing with "the public").
But I've never found a bug or body part in my food. Worse I've gotten is well done steak when I ordered medium rare, or the wrong side potato, stuck waiting far too long for my food, or that sort of thing.
For the first 2 years, my wife found it difficult to be in the same restaurant as me when I kickED off. Most of the time, you can see her at least 1 mile down the road, as she see’s me fit to blow. I can’t stand bad food, poor service, et al. So the technique is really basic you complain quietly then if you don’t get the desired result blow, get the manger in and rant… and no I never accept a second offering, you only have to work in a restaurant to know what people get up to, just complain and go somewhere else, DO NOT STAY!
I never pay or refrequent bad restraints as a result my wife and I (she’s a better cook than I by far but I’m pretty good), rarely go out, we have friends around. Let’s face it why would you want to spend £15 on a £4 bottle of wine in a place that is no better and in the main worse than your own home, it’s pointless.
I do the same thing with banks, anything that takes my fancy. Although recently I’ve refused to pay a local builder for poor quality work, I gave him a chance to “make it right” but he would rather threaten me with a death sentence… bring it on M8ey!
Rich
"What's on the turkey sub?"
Reminded me of once calling a donut shop that was rumored to be the best in the state.
Me: "I know you are on Walnut Street, but can you give me the name of a side street, or a landmark that you're near, so that I can find you?"
Lady: "We're by the railroad tracks"
You guessed it. The tracks parallel the entire length of Walnut Street.
Waitress dropped a whole lobster in my lap once
I was thinking, "I haven't had any really bad experiences," until this jogged my memory.
I was having dinner at a VERY swank restaurant in downtown Washington D.C. about a decade ago. I think someone else had a worse experience than I did, though ... the tray was precariously balanced. The waiter tried to put a dollop of creme onto a plate. The next thing we saw, my chocolate souffle went FLYING across the room, landing sqarely on the head of a woman who was in the middle of her main course.
I was bummin', because they couldn't fix me another souffle (takes too long). But she had to wear my souffle. So I'm guessing her dinner was ruined more than mine was.
I ordered a bowl of pasta and as I dug my fork in, it hit something hard. When I looked closer it was a big, curved broken piece of a pint glass. Luckily it was in one piece. No-one had any idea how it got there but needless to say we walked out and didnt pay for anything and have never been back since!
