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)
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)
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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)
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)
« Go Back