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This is a question Crap meals out

I'd chosen to take my in-laws to one of my favourite restaurants, only to discover it had changed hands the week before. We waited half an hour to get menus. The waitress broke the cork in the wine we ordered. She got our order wrong. The food was luke-warm, mine was overcooked, the rest was undercooked. After waiting another 40 minutes for the last course, we were told that we couldn't have any as the chef had "forgotten to de-frost the puddings".

Let's just say they didn't get a tip. Tell us of your crap meals out.

(, Thu 27 Apr 2006, 14:22)
Pages: Latest, 14, 13, 12, 11, 10, 9, 8, ... 1

This question is now closed.

okay i like hummos it's good stuff.
have you ever walked into a place and been like "that guys just like me, in a marley sort of way"
last three times i've ever gone to a restaurant i knew that persona dn i had something incommon.
(, Tue 2 May 2006, 3:41, Reply)
free curry
Back in the heady days of unemployment, my brother and I took a road trip to the Republic of Ireland on his faithfull GPZ500 Bike. Off we set, with a full set of camping gear on my back, with me on pillion to the depths of Ireland one shiny summer. Many a tea stop later, we arrive in Wexford, a charming place, and secure a camp site beside the sea and pitch our tent. All is well with the world. Bike engine quietly making 'pinging' sounds in the sun, tent pitched and we're preparing for a night out in a nice town. We find a club in Wexford (well, THE club) and secure entry, in exchange for several punts. (pre euro days) Inside, we find we can exchange our entry stubs for a free curry, provided by the club. wow, says us, great idea. The curry was rubbish. textureless and flavourless, it had no redeaming features whatsoever, over spiced, over cooked over priced at 'free'. I couldn't face mine after 1 mouthfull. Big brother on the other hand wolfs his, and mine, down in around 4 minutes flat. We continue our night out. ... several hours later, back in the tent, i am awoken by the sound and sight of my sibling franticly digging his way out of the tent in order to vomit. He can't get the zipper up. It's very much stuck. In the end, after 20 seconds of very frantic fighting, he gives up and with the strengh that only the truly desperate can muster, rips the lining of the tent, 'twixt front flaps and ground sheet and sticks his unshaven face out the resulting gap to hurl the 2 portions of curry onto Irelands fine green green grass.I giggle. We go back to sleep. Come the morning, we have to half crawl/half leap over the mound of vomit outside the entrance of our tent. on closer inspection, and to our wonderment, the puke has settled, upon ejection,into the form it was injested. That is to say, rice on the bottom, meat on the top. Nothing else sullying the fine disply, no carrots, nothing. It was almost a perfectly formed portion of curry, if slightly wafting of bile. After admiring this gastric wonderment, we realise we can't get back into our tent without disturbing this entity. Clean it up? Be buggered, we unpeg the dome tent and drag it 6 feet to the left and cover the extrusion with a placcy bag, secured with tent pegs.
(, Tue 2 May 2006, 0:25, Reply)
So ZenW3, a chinese yuppie eaterie in posh Hampstead High street. Mrs M and I went to have a meal there and it was so bad we have wrought a yearlong internet smear campaign against it. This has escalated to the point where all of the reviews on the London-eating, MyHampstead and ZenW3's own website were either posted by us or by Mr CHow, the owner of the restaurant who pretends to be english with terrific results of teh Egg Flied Lice variety, the following is a paste from one of these websites, the whole series is on my blog.

Read the reviews here aloud, that way they sound better, even better still, get the steven Hawking voice on your computer to read them out to you. The ones that come out something like "Very much enjoyed. Super great restront. Come here agen long time, Kevin, Romford" were very unlikely to have been written by Kevin from Romford and more likely were Mr CHow's.

"Let's look at the evidence, as used to be said by culinaire Lloyd Grossman. They have finally realised that they are being slagged off on the internet, largely though not exclusively by me and are trying to improve their reputation by writing fake reviews. This restaurant is awful and overpriced, the service is bad, the water features mouldy and the food consisting mainly of connective tissues in the least authentic sauces available in the supermarket. On the up side and to be fair to the place they did a nice fried adder dish but for the £300 they charged us we might as well have bought a pair of Malano Blahnik's from the shop over the road (this is Hampstead you know) and eaten them with a dirty side dish of Soy Sauce probably recyled from the previous customers. All ion all, no restaurant has ever annoyed me as much as this wholly pretentious throwback to the eighties. Kill it and never go there. Send the food police over and end our misery."

your comments review this restaurant and win a bottle of champagne

Valentines 2006, shoot need to book something, well i would rather be in the dog house than go to this joint. Gents if you forget to book something next yr, dont try this place. Both my mrs and i are very fond of chinese food, esp Shenzen styled, this wasnt up to par. Sizzling lamb one our fav's was rubbery, grisly, need i go on? The rest of it looked as though it came from the local chinese cash and carry, not that im knocking these joints, the food you can get from these places if far better.

Service: as soon as we walked in, one waitress left us with no wine lists, no attempt to explain that there is an a la carte menu in addition to the mixed menu. Second waitress came back asking what we would like to drink, "a bit hard to decide without a menu my dear!" Ambience pleasant, quite a smart looking place, but thats about it. Try it for an experience, wouldnt go back in a hurry. Avg price £100 for two including a bottle of plonk.

GeeNee - Monday, March 06, 2

good foods and service. I must mentioned price also....lots of diffrence compare to last time. Very reasonable price.

Dave - Wednesday, March 01, 2006

yummy........foods, service and atmosphere are excellent in hampstead, north london. I am very proud of this restaurant in my area.

Recommended to all my friends.

Saturday, November 12, 2005

I have been visitng this restaurant for some time and used to find the sevice excellent and the food top quality. Although pricy the set luch was reasonable value. However I visted again about 3 weeks again and was very dissapointed...the service was awful - I had to ask for the loud music to be turned down. My starter - crabs cakes were okay, but the main course was unnacceptable both in taste and in the size of the portion. Needless to say I won't be going back!

Saturday, November 12, 2005

i love this restaurant.........foods and service are excellent. Very enjoyed and will come again with parents.

Thursday, November 10, 2005

The food and service are excellent, very enjoy. Especially, sesame prawn toast and lemon chicken.........yummy, best in north london.

Tuesday, November 01, 2005

After renovation and new chefs, foods are much much more better than last time. Really enjoy.
Thursday, October 27, 2005
Mi Sti Cum-Cum
11 Apr 2006


Love good Zen Food .Never forget nice Mr Chow honorable Maitre D' .will bring children here good parents and so very tasty long menu try new special only £9.99 serveice not include .very local very regional very traditional very new very good old but new .I'm living just near and get good delivery free with 1 mile .best worst local good food .many famous Derren Brown good customer

09 Apr 2006



meg ryan

04 Apr 2006


last week i go to zen with my friend at lunch i was thinks to go to have some sushi and chiness unfortunately they don't do anymore sushi but they have a branch at 10 min down at camden town .zenw3 is more variety on the menu the open grill are making me order the satay chicken and grill fish in home made sauce .so enjoyable . service is friendly and efficient and the dishes are extraordinarily good value.

Meg seems very well informed about their branch down in Camden, she even remembers to mention the new open grill menu with its more variety. Mmm, me fink i want know more. Dale Tell me more.

dale mackencie

04 Apr 2006


two day ago i make a delivery order the food is so yummy the blackcod miso , supreme vegetable,red zen,pot sticker was so nice and even better value now.no wonder u r choice of star and famous group. i have to said zen w3 u still the best.

So thanks Dale, but isn;t that two days ago? I hope you're not taking the piss out of the waiter's accent are you, that's not really the done thing anymore. I didn't know that ZenW3 was the choice of star and famous group. Which star and famous group? Steps like to eat in Mulan down the hill.
Dale and Meg both seems to have problem with how use pluralisation and with always is writing in the present tense.

OK, so Misti CumCum was me but all the others were real.
(, Mon 1 May 2006, 23:59, Reply)
me and the missus went to an all inclusive place in tunisia, for our first proper holiday together about 10 years ago.
the place is great and the people there were very freindly, but they had not the slightest bit of knowledge regarding food hygiene, preparation or storage.
every day, at every meal, were a tray of cold chips.if it was a quarter full at the end of lunch,it would be a quarter full at the start of the evening meal.over a couple of days,we noticed a pattern with the meals...
for lunch one day,we had a beef casserole.that same evening, we had the same reheated casserole with a crust,and re-named "hot pot".this was reheated and served for lunch the following day.that evening,it had its crust removed and some sort of powdered spice added, and was once mor re-named as "goulash".
it was no wonder we all had the squirts,although i had been warned by my doctor,and took plenty of immodium tablets.
the only decent meal over the 10 days was on "tunisian night",when local fare was served...cous cous,brik, fantastic! i think most people were too ill to be adventurous with their food by this time ,though.
while there,we went to tunis for a day out.my missus was starving,as she would not eat in the hotel, and we spied a "pizza hut" in the distance.when we got to it, it was shut! she cried real tears, i pissed myself laughing.( i am a shithouse!)
(, Mon 1 May 2006, 23:51, Reply)
The Authentic Egyptian Taste - Not
A couple of years back I was pleased to discover that kebab shops had spread to New Zealand. Having moved over from London a few years prior, my system had been missing the extra large, no salad, extra chilli, blood sphinctering experience that a decent doner provides.

Thus, having spotted "Pharoah's Kebabs" in a town near me, and noticing further that it specialised in doner kebabs, I was as happy as a canine with a dual phallus. I did't quite understand the relevance of Egypt, assuming that kebabs were a greek / turkish dish, but nonetheless proceeded to order a super large doner, served a la ring damage.

All went well until I began experiencing intestinal pains and a very upset stomach for several days after. Having passed a viscious amount of diahorea and several internal organs, I went to the Doctor. After numerous tests, I was found to be suffering from liver flukes. LIVER FLUKES !! These are a parasitic infection of cattle beast (and obviously immune to chilli sauce).

Thanks Pharoahs, for several weeks I had to use anti-fluke suppositories the size of bars of soap.

The taste of Egypt...truly a curse with every doner.
(, Mon 1 May 2006, 23:38, Reply)
xmas 2005
my friends and I decided that a meal out would be a perfect way to meet each other as we hadn't seen one another for a few weeks, some for over a year. We went to a wetherspoons, as we were told they served fine food. My fiend and I decided to have a duo meal: the nachos were burnt, and very cold; my chilli was mushy and semi-warm; his steak was burnt and his fries undercooked; the coke was flat and the malibu tasted watered down. Along with this, there were two drunken slags screaming about sex with their husbands and their extramarital boyfriends. Never has a nacho reminded me so much of a woman's vagina after i heard that very word being mentioned by one of the obnoxious women. The sour cream visual didn't help, either.
(, Mon 1 May 2006, 22:42, Reply)
Well I had just woken from a comatose state, and I fancied some eggs. So, me and my crew went to eat, and this tiny little monster just lept right out of my stomach!

That was definitely the Worst Meal I Ever Had.

Love and Kisses,
J. Hurt.
(, Mon 1 May 2006, 22:30, Reply)
Me and my mates went for the obligatory kebab (technically a meal and it was out). There was this place i used to live near which had a great name - "Kebabistan" in Mount Lawley, i actually thought it was a real place next to Craplakistan but i digress.

We ate great kebabs, like a food angel crying on your tongue as one does after about 8 pints of beer, i then proceeded to the loo where i stayed for the rest of the night, as did my pals.

One kinda weird thing though, the owner was MURDERED outside the place by her own family a week later i believe!..

They're still in business, seems you can get away with blue-murder in the kebab business!.

Apologies for length but i like my kebabs with mucho girth
(, Mon 1 May 2006, 21:58, Reply)
In Mauritius a good few years ago when I was 18 (ahhh - the memories, from when I was but a lad) - Aaaaaaanyhooooooo

I was in this fantastic little seaood place in Port Louis (look it up) and my uncle warned me to watch out for prawn shells - I did, and duly crunched on one and didn't give it a second thought. Until the next morning/afternoon/evening when all manner of bad things were expelled from my body.....

As an aside, the meal was fantastic :-)


sexkitten1000 - Erm, there's a line that you've crossed there - so much so, in fact, that the line is just a dot on the horizon to you........
(, Mon 1 May 2006, 21:10, Reply)
Went to this place called 'FRIED JONATHAN' in Aylesbury.

Got in there at 6pm expecting a 'light supper', although being as I was with Fat Brian, he had to order a three-course meal, didn't he, the FAT HOUND.

Things started out badly when instead of bringing us out the house red, they brought gravy. Fat Brian's wife Ugly Leslie loves gravy, so she slurped it down. In its defence it was full of genuine chicken shavings, so it was proper gravy.

For starters I ordered Hard Melon. Brian ordered Pork Scratchings En Croute and Leslie ordered Dog's Head Surprise.

Imagine my disgust when the Melon was soft, Brian's Pork Scratchings were not served En Croute but in a Car, and Leslie had to eat the head of a Cat! Which still came with fluff on, and ears! To her credit, she used the fluff to spruce up her limp-looking necklace, because Brian is a stingy twat who never spends any money on her (AND I BET HE BEATS HER AS WELL).

We would have stayed for main course but some drunk HGVist with ham hock arms drove their truck into the central Kryptonite core of the restaurant in its basement, and our table imploded... I could read the hieroglyphics on my arms for days!


Do not go to 'FRIED JONATHAN' in Aylesbury.

(Stop Press: apparently it's now closed and has been replaced by a crumbling branch of Dollond and Aitchison).
(, Mon 1 May 2006, 21:02, Reply)
Sticky Surprise
This isn't a story about a meal I had but one that I served...I was working at a hotel in the Highlands one afternoon when a party of 30 or so church of scotland grannies turned up for a meal they had supposedly booked. Needless to say I didn't have a clue who the fuck they were but after a bit of a Kerfuffle we agreed that we could feed them. We set them a couple of big tables really quickly and the chef made some sweet and sour chicken. The coffin dodgers were getting pretty grumpy by now knashing their falsers in anticipation of a feed. Finally the food was ready to serve and I took out a plate or three of sweet and sour chicken. As I leant forward to place a plate I inadvertantly tipped some gloopy sweet and sour sauce over on of the more seniour ladies heads. Realising what I had done I did what any good manager would do and carried on serving pretending nothing had happened! I was rumbled after a couple of seconds however when the lady sitting next to my victim spotted some of the offending bright orange sauce on her friends head. At this point the lady said she could feel something warm and sticky running down her neck. I went very red and got lots of disapprovong tuts and glowers. Basicaly we made an arse of the whole thing from start to finish but I take some solice in the fact that I will have given the grannies at the church of scotland something to whinge about till they pop their clogs.
(, Mon 1 May 2006, 20:51, Reply)
Wales have shit Beef Curry.
Went to a "restaurant" once somewhere in Wales (can't remember where abouts).
The Beef Curry was shit and DIDN'T TASTE OF ANYTHING. AT ALL.
We paid £6 odd quid per serving. Went back to the campsite and got Pot-Noodles. Score.
(, Mon 1 May 2006, 20:26, Reply)
I know your pain, Cheesecake...
...as I am currently residing in Penbryn, Block 8. The worst thing is the slop they make up from left-over beans, sausage bits and bacon shreds...
(Cheesecake's post)
(, Mon 1 May 2006, 19:38, Reply)
I have had a perticuler bad Kebab in bulgaria. Now i was warned off the kababs by many in the hotel, but me being me couldn resist, so as the evening starts i decided to order what i thought was a lamb donner kabab........ the rest of the night was spent in the bathroom with what felt like Nukes going off in my gut.

Another amusing little food story was when my band played a loverly venue in Stoke, the Talbot to be exact. Now our synth player decided to enjoy one of the local curry houses after we sound check'd, 5 minutes later the allready grotty toilets had a new lick of paint, which was a loverly shade of Masala!!
(, Mon 1 May 2006, 18:08, Reply)
A Warning Against Charity
My sister, brother-in-law and I were in an Italian restaurant in London having lunch. I forget what the restaurant is called, but no matter. As were escorted to our table we noticed a vagrant of some description [/upper class language] sitting in the corner of the restaurant, flicking through a magazine. Our table was, unfortunately, situated near the toilets. They must have recently been cleaned because there was a nasty disinfectant smell wafting into our noses before, during and after the meal.

Anyway, we get our food (which admittedly wasn't too bad) when the guy in the corner starts mumbling to himself. No, wait, not mumbling.. what's that word? Oh yeah, shouting. And as he began shouting gibberish, he got up from his seat, magazine in hand, and began staggering towards our table. He reached out to grab something from our table and began waving his magazine at us, still spouting gibberish, before any of the waiters thought maybe it was time to send him out, still talking to himself. As I said, the food was fine, but the experience has kind of put me off Italian food for a while.
(, Mon 1 May 2006, 17:28, Reply)
Dunkies Diner in Worcester
Dunkies diner - crap name and food to match! The one and only time I went there a few years ago my mate & I chose moussaka, whilst my wife went for a jacket potato. Both our moussakas were still frozen in the middle and were sent back for a second go in the microwave. The re-nuked meals arrived (microwaved ketchup YUM!)and we started tucking in. Halfway through I found a huge thick (animal?) hair firmly embedded. I got a refund for the moussaka (they didn't refund the cost of the tea!). My mate didn't find any hairs in his so couldn't get a refund! Strangely though he didn't finish his!

The place has closed down now.
(, Mon 1 May 2006, 15:42, Reply)
harrassment (im a girl)
i asked the male waiter where the toilet was so he said hed show me he took me down some steps and into a small back room he closed the door behind us and locked it i was starting to worry i casually asked him where the toilet was he said we dont have a toilet in this restaraunt so i said could i please go back to my table then he said not just yet. then he told me to get my kit off i refused he grabbed my shoulders and forced me into 1 of the small chairs he started to unbutton my shirt when i was fully naked he took his dick out and started to rape me i was only 14 years old at the time when he had finished he told me to put my clothes back on and go back to my table i put my clothes on as he unlocked the door as soon as i was dressed i ran out of the door up the stairs and into the street i caught a taxi back to my house and never went to that restarant again
(, Mon 1 May 2006, 15:19, Reply)
Not quite exactly what you are looking for...
Me and the Ex went for a meal at Sailors in Oxford - one of the best sea-food resteruants in the country. We have been planning this for weeks and I even rang the day before to check what was going to be in stock for the day of question to prepare my choices.

At the time, I was a bookie, and I basically worked 90 to 100 hours a week, and this was my only night out in a fortnight.

The day before, the Mrs goes to the doctors complaining that her balance and vision are distorted, and the diagnose vertigo, and give her some pills to sort everything out.

6pm arrives and off into Oxford we go. Get onto town, couple of drinky-poo's and to the food for 8pm. Sit down, order Mussels to start and a platter of Tuna and Bass steaks for main.

Starters arrive and go down well. Ex starts looking a bit peaky. Plates collected away and we wait for the main course. Ex dissappears to the loo, main course arrives, Ex comes back. Says "i have a problem, I can't close my mouth". I laugh, continue eating. She then complains she can't open her mouth. I take this a bit more serious, as bed-time action later may become tricky... I look at her, and it looks as though an invisible car jack is opening her mouth. I could have fitted my entire foot into her mouth. She want's to go. I say I'll just finish my meal. Which I do, bloody lovely as well.

Off we go to the John Radcliffe Hospital. Me semi-pi55ed, her with her coat covering her mouth.

Get there - long story short, the medication has a weird reaction to something in her meal, and causes her mouth muscles to contract and basically cause her to have no control over her mouth. Spent the next 3 hours in A&E with her being given increasing amounts of sedatives and muscle relaxants to stop the problem. Got home and didn't even get a quickie.

Cracking meal for me, crap for her.
(, Mon 1 May 2006, 12:19, Reply)
I raised a ghost

it was my late wife.
(, Mon 1 May 2006, 12:09, Reply)
That's right, everybody's a racist.
Up until about the age of 16, my family insisted on taking my God-loving Grandparents out for a meal on my birthday, I'd get dragged along too.

It was my 13th birthday; a few years ago now and we were sat in this family restaurant waiting for a meal. Grandma was interrogating us about the last time we went to Church and all of a sudden, a plate smashed and we heard this screaming from the other side of the restaurant.

"It's because I'm a fucking nigga isn't it!?"

Everybody turned around and he continued shouting:

"I'm sorry to distract you from your meal ladies and gentlemen, but this blonde bitch here doesn't think I deserve the right to see my son! She is a RACIST!"

A man, whom I vaguely recall was sat with the "blonde bitch" got up and tried to calm the erratic man down.

He wasn't having any of this and pushed the 2nd man against the wall and started yelling some more.

I thought this was fucking brilliant! Grandmother, however, didn't feel the same.

"Waiter.. We'll cancel our orders please"

We snuck out one of the side doors. Damn her.

It could have really made my birthday.
(, Mon 1 May 2006, 11:40, Reply)
It wasn't really crap, but it's a reasonable story
When the mrs was heavily, heavily pregnant (week overdue) we went out for a meal at the local 2 for 1 pub grill placey. She'd been having crappy mini stomach cramp contracty things on and off for weeks, and she'd been having them again, so I thought I'd treat her to cheer her up. I was well looking forward to a mixed grill, so we sat and waited for what seemed like an age.

EVETUALLY, it arrived. Her meal looked lovely (I forget what she had cos I'm a bloke). Mine, on the other hand was abhorrent. The chicken 'bit' was dry, shrivelled, and I couldn't cut it with my knife. The gammon 'piece' was in the same state. Everything else was fine. Now, I've NEVER, EVER complained about food before (cos I'm British). Ever. But eventually the mrs talked me into it. So I asked a waitress lady thing to come and have a quick look at my meat. (!). I banged it on the table by way of demonstration, so they took the two offending bits away, and a while later, brought back a new plate. The most perfectly tender chicken breast, compliment with a wonderfully succulent bit of gammon. Tasty gorgeous, I eat the lot, and thanked them for painlessly sorting my food out for me.
So, we head home, and decide to pop into the hospital to try and get some painkillers for the mrs, as the pains will stop her sleeping and she was knackered the poor thing. We got to the hospital about 10pm, and after 21 hours of labour, we had a beautiful baby girl.

Neither of us were hungry. :)
(, Mon 1 May 2006, 11:22, Reply)
Oyster Mushroom Tagitalle
On Thursday, its now Monday, I can now almost keep food down.

Damn tables in the Tron.
(, Mon 1 May 2006, 10:24, Reply)
Revenge is sweet...
Picture the scene... overpriced, bland meal, grumpy mare of a waitress and I finally make it through to the dessert.

I ordered the Sticky Toffee Pudding for dessert and what arrives? Naturally, one of Brake Brothers' finest. I mean, if they're only charging you six quid a portion for dessert, should they really bother making it themselves when they can just buy it?

Still, it was a bit cold, so I sent it back.

Microwaves are marvellous things. I could hear the shouting in the kitchen from halfway across the restaurant.

Perhaps I should have told them about the 3 2p coins I'd pushed inside the pudding?
(, Mon 1 May 2006, 9:57, Reply)
only a few
i am a keen cook in my family, and, when my sister has spaghetti bolognese,
made by me, i get really offended when she has tomato kechup on the bolognese
it's like she is shitting on me food!!! and i work hard to make that.

aaaaaanyhoooooowwww i went on
a german exchange this year, my exchange partner was possibly the least
amusing german. EVER. but that's another story. His mother cooked spaghetti
bolognese one night. and his
annoying little brother seems
to hate everything that may be vaguely healthy for him, no garlic, no onion,
no red peppers, no fucking dolmio, no, his mother IN-FUCKING-SISTED on
having FUCKING TOMATO FUCKING KECHUP instead - yeesh that was possibly the
worst meal i have ever had*

next we have a general macdonalds moan - because macdonals is in fact the worst 'restaurant' ** that ever existed - basically, when i eat slower, i really did find hard bits in me burgers - true story.

next we have a testosterone-fuelled story - basically me and my friends are always really horny, and we start using really FUCKING annoying metaphors like so (i am not in this dialouge)

horny teenager one:we went window shopping today
HT#2: really, how?
HT#1:we went window shopping for girls
HT#2: why didn't we go shopping for real?

fuck me that annoys me.

anyway, that is just a little bit of background/rant for you. we met some girls on the rye (in High Wycombe, if anyone knows it) who happened to be the same age as us... what a co-incidence, anyway, we, being the horny teenagers we in fact are, got a little bit hungry. so we went to Macdonalds - it being cheap... outlook is bleak. anyway, Macdonalds being Macdonalds, 4 people out of a group of 10 cannot have a meal with the rest of their group joining them without the manager telling them to fuck off, so we go outside and just wait there, in the alley beside Macdonalds so i decide to go back in, and before the manager can get a word off at me i shout at him:


so i go and order 2 of the cheapest things on the menu because my friends was hungry too - a hamburger, my friends are getting slightly bored cue them shining a laser into the managers' eyes - they take a fucking age to serve me and during that time the manager comes up to me and says:

"If you don't tell you mate to put that laser pen away, i'll shove it up his arse" - i could only laugh - so everyone's gone and i'm the only one - which is a little gay.

no apologies for length - you know you love it really - yeah bitch, take that length

*i seceretly enjoyed it, but it really was shit.
** it should be calle a chain of shitholes.

(, Mon 1 May 2006, 9:32, Reply)
So I was at the local fish and chippy..
I was having a "Pensioners Special" (despite being 24) and you got a lovely plate of bread and butter with it. Well , the bread and butter arrived, and I looked at the crust.

What. The. Fuck.

It was covered in this green little things. Quickly grabbing my knife i scraped all the butter off one slice and there was all these green little dollops of...


Bollocks to this, I thought. The fish was really shit too, and the chips were tasteless. The tea was stone cold when I got it. Despite all the old ladys around me saying "That special is BLOODY lovely Margaret" I think they gave me a SHIT version of it just because I'm younger. Christ, a 74 year old can go into McDonalds and get a cunting happy meal, why can I not enjoy my Pensioners Special?

Oh, and the mushy peas gave me the shits.

Another meal was at McDonalds. Was with my Mum (we'd been to B&Q she needed me to carry some plaster stuff) She asked for a burger with "nothing on it" (as in no dressing) 5 minutes later when our order arrives and I'm glumly tucking into my small fries because I'd rather get shot than eat at McDonalds but it was either that or Burger King and that shits too *gasp for air*. She unwrapped her burger to find 2 pieces of bread. No beef.

Oh and on a plane, we got RAW SALMON. Yes, RAW SALMON.

Fucking lovely.
(, Mon 1 May 2006, 2:31, Reply)
Not really a meal out, but a magical mystery sarnie
Whilst out and about shopping in town, my friend rings me reminding me about his gig at a pub the other end of town and it was starting in 20mins. I'd totally forgotten and had shitloads of stuff with me and no time to take it home or get anything to eat. Decided to just grab a baguette from the faux French sandwich shop next to the bus-stop. The coronation chicken baguette was wolfed down on the way there and i thought no more of it.

The night carried on, many pints of guinness were necked and the gig was amazing. At closing time, another friend offered a lift home which in my slightly drunken state i gladly took. In his car, there was a half-drunk McDonalds strawberry milkshake that had been there for most of the day he said, but for some reason i just HAD to have some of it, and finished the lot. no sooner as the last dregs were finished, i felt my stomach begin to do backflips. Not an alcohol type sick, like a sharp stabbing pain in my stomach.

He dropped me back at home and i sat down in front of the telly, half-cut, and moaned to my Dad about feeling ill. The usual routine of mocking my booze-handling capabilites and then "you look like shit, why are you sweating?" followed, then i felt the imminant urge to vomit come along. Ran to the toilet thinking i hadnt had enough booze to hurl, and that milkshake wouldnt have poisoned me yet. Got there just in time to see a yellow stream of semi-digested chicken baguette cascade out of me. "Bloody hell, thats impressive. How did you manage to only throw up the baguette?" i hear my dad say looking over my shoulder. To this day, i cant work out how my stomach managed to keep down pints of black liquid and some thick pink gloop, but sieve the rest of its contents out perfectly.

Oh, and I have eaten from that same baguette shop since then. Who am i kidding? The food there is amazing for the short time it stays in your body...
(, Mon 1 May 2006, 0:51, Reply)
I think it was my fourteenth birthday...
They made me stand on the chair while the restaurant sang Happy Birthday to me. I spent what felt like the longest thirty seconds of my life blushing and trying to tug down the hem of my dress. I was also vaguely aware of something tickling my foot, but didn't notice what it was until I turned to look down at the cheeky waiter chappy when he asked me, "And now, Birthday Girl, is there anything you would like?"

"A plaster, please."

I had cut my foot open on a nail sticking out of the chair.

They did not have any plasters.

The waiter brought me a bandage and a huge dressing pad jobby, but was unable to attend to my (quite scary looking) wound. The sight of blood made him feel ill, apparently.

They didn't even give me a discount on the food; they seemed to think complimenting me on my First Aid and bandaging skills would make up for the vicious, foot-attacking furniture.
(, Sun 30 Apr 2006, 22:37, Reply)
I decided to take my slightly conservative parents to my favourite curry house. The food was good, the serive was excellent, but the mood was rather ruined by the drunken twat at the next table whose every second word was "f*ck", and his lower-on-the-food-chain-than-amoeba mates who seemed to think that continual swearing was the height of comedic brilliance. The meal for me was one long series of apologetic glances and rolling of eyes, while I braced myself for a comment along the lines of "I don't like your choice of restaurant" from my mum.. but bless her, as we passed the noisy table on our way out, she leant right over the table, looked the swearing man right in the eye and said, very quitely and sweetly, "I think you have a serious lack of self-esteem and you should seek help". Bless her.. the look on his face made it all worthwhile.
(, Sun 30 Apr 2006, 22:17, Reply)

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