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...

Dear Elizabeth...

Dear Elizabeth,

I’ve been trying to put myself into your shoes lately. I’ve tried to see things from your point of view. But I’m afraid I, I just can’t do that. I just can’t imagine what it would be like to be married to a habitual liar with a cheatin’ heart. I have no idea what it’s like to suffer such public betrayal. The pain and humiliation must be terrible.

And in all honesty, I can’t believe you’re still with a man who would confess to your face he had many hot days and even hotter nights with a woman much younger and more attractive than you. Are you that needy? There ARE other fish in the sea.

Why don’t you just leave? Save what little pride you have left and get out now. I mean, Holy Jupiter! Why on earth would you want to stay? All it takes is a trip down to the courthouse. You can be a free woman! Hell, I’ll even point you into the direction of a good lawyer.

What in tarnation are you waiting for? It can only get worse from here on out.





Sincerely,

John

Down in three seconds

A lot of time has passed since this went down. Actually, it’s been months…

I still like to roughhouse with my sons on occasion, even though they’re teenagers now and could really take me out if they wanted to... I like to take advantage of the fact that they respect me enough to back off when I‘m obviously losing the battle, whether it‘s a pillow fight or a wrestling match. And I guess old habits die hard and I think I‘m better and stronger than I actually am. You see, roughhousing with the boys has always made me feel younger - even back when I was 21 (and wished I was 16). Well, now I’m 34 and even though I’m in good form I knew it was only a matter of time before one of them accidentally kicked my ass…

I had been listening to Metallica and was in a playful mood. I was feeling unusually energetic and indestructible, like I usually do when I’m PMSing. Add heavy metal to that and maybe you can see where this is going. The boys were in the kitchen raiding the fridge, and I was all wound up and in the mood to rumble with someone. I decided to go after the kid who is always roughhousing with his sisters or starting it with me, and he also happens to be the only son still shorter than me so, a fair fight is a fair fight. I figured it was his turn to be caught off guard.
It turned out that I had picked the wrong time to stir things up. Just a warning - if a teenager says he’s hungry and tells you to leave him alone so he can eat in peace, step away and save the fight for another time. Trust me on this one.

I ignored him and we started to tussle. I was attempting to get him into a headlock and he tried to knee me in the stomach to get away…

Well, I had originally thought that was what he was doing and didn‘t give it enough lift, but the truth is he was wildly trying to fight me off in any way possible without paying attention…

His knee went directly into my crotch, and I was down in 3 seconds.

1. “Ooooo, ohhhh.” That’s all I could say as I bent over.

2. I grabbed the counter, but couldn’t hold on.

3. I was on my knees with both hands on the floor, repeating the phrase “god, god”… and couldn’t move for a few seconds.

I was nauseated and getting sweaty. I tried to stand up, grabbing the counter again, and it was slow going. Meanwhile, my sons are standing around me in shock and complete horror and now that I think about it, the look on their faces - just priceless. In fact, the offending son will have to live with the fact that he brutally hurt his mom’s vajay not once, but twice in his lifetime.

As soon as I stood up I felt dizzy. Somehow I made it to the bathroom and my ears were ringing. I thought I was going to die! I’m not going to tell you what happened in there. After a few minutes I got my hearing back and made my way to the couch, where I stayed the rest of the night. I kid you not, I’ve never felt this kind of pain before, and I’ve been in plenty of fights in my day. Not even childbirth prepared me for this. I’m not one who likes to sympathize with males, but if this is anything close to what you men go through after a hit to the genitals, I certainly have a new level of respect for you. And I’ll never say that again, just to be clear.

Now that the lump is gone I can look back on this and laugh, because the one who took me down in three seconds was the last one I would have ever suspected. Needless to say, I don’t call him a pussy anymore…

There was that one time when he was a tot and got his dad in the family jewels during a roughhousing session. I laughed, privately, but karma must have overheard me. Payback’s a bitch.

And when this same son was in 5th grade he got hit in the nards by a baseball. Now I know why it happened.