The Shit List: Downtown Chain Restaurants

I wanted to reserve this list for groups of people I really dislike, but bad management IS people and the root of the problem. And I’ve heard it’s not good to “stuff” your feelings. I never have a good bottle of booze handy anyway. I spent last week attending lectures so by Friday I was numb enough as it was. And all that sitting! I hate it when my butt cheeks fall asleep. It really wasn’t the place to stand up and shake it. The first day I was surprised to see some one I knew. Pat is extremely boring one-on-one and I was in physical pain trying to have a conversation with him, but he is a nice guy and no one likes to dine in public alone. Well, we don’t. We didn’t want to risk getting back late so after factoring in everything (traffic, parking, wait time, etc.) we had to have lunch downtown. Our places of choice were scattered around the outer edges of the city and we were stuck in the center. Math is never fun and was working against us.



When I’m in the largest city in the state I normally try to avoid downtown. Traffic stinks and the only place to catch a bite without messing with a meter is a chain restaurant, which you can find elsewhere. But now I have even more reasons. Pat didn’t know what to expect either so I can’t pin any of this on him. Hence the shit list. We went to a different place each day and they all sucked. These were the two worst.



We started off the week at Perkins. When our waitress came over I immediately recognized her. I used to work with her somewhere else and she looked exactly the same as she did ten years ago, from her hairstyle right down to her pregnant belly. Talk about deja vu. But wait, there’s more. She still has this cold and pissed off look like she will either pull out a gun or start balling if you ask how her day’s going. Don’t think this just comes with being a waitress and packing a fetus. She’s always had a way of making people uncomfortable, prego or not. Well, everyone has their skills. She also hates conversation unless it involves her complaining, so I was glad she stuck to her job. I was hungry so I ordered the ‘Everything Omelet’, which was a ten dollar omelet. Ten dollars! Everything Omelet! So I’m thinking I’ll be in omelet heaven. Was I wrong to assume that? Umm… After getting my omelet I couldn’t help but wonder where the rest of it was. Seriously, it looked like something a model would not only inhale but actually leave in her stomach. I was already put off, then I noticed the cheese on top wasn’t melted. The last time I got my food like that (A&W summer 2006) the entire thing was cold. Well, it was actually much worse. My chili dog was partially frozen. So was I wrong to assume my omelet would be a little coldish? Since it didn’t look frozen I dove right into it. I burned my tongue.


I had it coming. And I’m always this scary.

As you can see I’m wrong a lot of the majority of the time. And when I’m wrong I’m very, very wrong. And as if all that weren’t bad enough, while I was pretending not to be in pain I noticed another tight-lipped, snobby snot waitress who worked with me that same year. It wasn’t weird enough to see just one of these old sour puss co-workers, so here were two of them in the same damn place. And yet, after thinking it over I left a nice tip for the walking time bomb. Some day some one might get hurt.

The next day Pat was craving some kind of KFC bowl that had mashed potatoes, gravy, chicken and cheese all mixed together. I still don’t know what it’s called. For one, they didn’t have it up on the board. Two, he couldn’t remember the name. We stood there for a while as he looked for it, until an anorexic looking young woman with greasy hair and a depressed demeanor slowly came out of the darkness (maybe some bulbs had burned out). And the place was dark too. To be more specific, this girl looked like an emo 8th grader but was Addams Family creepy. The bad lighting didn’t help any. No, scratch that. If the lighting was any good we would’ve seen more creepy.


They always start with dolls

Pat described what he wanted and she rang it up. Although it sounded grotesque, like what a one-year-old does with his food right before he throws it on the floor, I knew Pat had some taste so I told the Addams girl I’d try it. Then she said we’d have to wait while they made the chicken. It was lunchtime at KFChicken and they weren’t ready for 2 measly orders? Great. It got worse though. We sauntered off to find a table and there were plenty of them. There were only 3 other people in the place which I thought was odd, at first. Then we went from table to table. We couldn’t find one that was clean. Not one! Every single table was dirty. Magnificent. Pat went from disgusted to determined to make it better somehow. He chose a small table with only a few crumbs and used a napkin to wipe it off. He was really hell bent on this chicken potpourri so I thought it had to be good. When it was ready we had to go back to the counter. Perkins prices but no waitresses in sight? Yes, I was pissed the bowl thing cost ten bucks. I know it’s all about location, but we weren’t in a frigging mall. Okay, I’ll admit the chicken/potato gumbowl was very tasty, but it shouldn’t take a Taser to get your employees to wipe tables or show some courtesy. And they should at least look like they might not be carving out the hearts of live chickens by candlelight in a back room. Oddly enough the rest room was clean, so if I’m ever in the neighborhood and need to pee or drop something off...

Let it rain, let it pour

Is it raining where you are? It’s been raining and drizzling here all week long. I haven’t seen the sun shine since Monday, so when it makes a big comeback the shock to the system just might kill me. I wait with anticipation.

It always rains on Memorial Day Weekend. Only this year it started even sooner. Good thing my ex was wise enough to plan the big yearly camping/fishing event for the following weekend. I mean, good thing he has to work Memorial Day this year, for the children’s sake. They really rough it out there so I hope the weather is nice. Hopefully this time around they won’t come home drenched right down to their underwear, with bags of sopping wet clothes. The smell is enough to knock a grown man to the floor, let alone little ol’ me. And as for me, I can’t be away from civilization for nearly a week. I would go effing nuts without a shower, internet and soft place to lay awake nights wishing I could sleep. I have to admit, though, one night away from the hubbub of my home would be a nice getaway. But after that first night it’s just like Chinese water torture. Well, that is old and extremely outdated (replacing “Chinese” with “Guantanamo”).

I’m not complaining because we desperately need this. I guess I can tolerate puddles and mud everywhere if it means there’s a chance of not having another horrible fire season. We’ve had a drought for years now. I think it could be traced back to when Bush was first elected, but the last thing I want is angry Republicans getting all up in my space (sarcasm). I swear it gets more and more like California here every year, but our fires don’t seem quite as bad to the public. We don’t usually have national news reporters crawling around on the scene, broadcasting the sights, and the sounds of locals describing in great detail how they couldn’t save the chickens.




Poor chickens, their lives were so short. They barely lived.




This is a backfire, proving that evil really can be fought with evil.




This fire is still fresh in my memory. Two summers ago it burned for a few days before it was contained. I want to give props to the Volunteer Firemen (and others who came in to help). It’s good to know my donations weren’t piddled away on beer and poker games. Thank you all for giving us our highway back. It’s our only connection to the real world. Without it we are lost - just simple valley folk mumbling to ourselves about how times were so much better in the old days. Wait… We do that anyway.

Remember when we could drive twice as far on a tank of gas?

Oh yeah, those were the days.

Remember when mescaline was all the rage, and we could run naked in the hills without a care?

Oh yeah, those were the days.




Remember when 38 Special was a cool band?

Oh yeah, I’m sure glad those days are behind us.