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)
« Go Back
COCKHOLSTER
A friend of mine once used to work in a greasy spoon in the city. Naturally he would come across many lovely folks, and several uptight businessmen.
One day, a particularly uptight businessman with severe penis compensation issues decided to have breakfast there, throughout the course of which he managed to be so howwible to his female waitress that she was found crying in the back room.
The cockwaggler then asked where the toilet was.
Revenge.
My friend coated the doorhandle to the toilet in chilli powder, before he arrived to it.
The man proceeds to open it, unzip his fly and cover his unprotected manhood in hot-as-fuck-turkish-owned-greasy-spoon-chilli-powder.
He sat back down again, uneasy in his seat, before letting out an almighty yelp, and running back to the toilet.
Brilliant!
Apologies for my small willy
( , Tue 2 May 2006, 21:39, Reply)
A friend of mine once used to work in a greasy spoon in the city. Naturally he would come across many lovely folks, and several uptight businessmen.
One day, a particularly uptight businessman with severe penis compensation issues decided to have breakfast there, throughout the course of which he managed to be so howwible to his female waitress that she was found crying in the back room.
The cockwaggler then asked where the toilet was.
Revenge.
My friend coated the doorhandle to the toilet in chilli powder, before he arrived to it.
The man proceeds to open it, unzip his fly and cover his unprotected manhood in hot-as-fuck-turkish-owned-greasy-spoon-chilli-powder.
He sat back down again, uneasy in his seat, before letting out an almighty yelp, and running back to the toilet.
Brilliant!
Apologies for my small willy
( , Tue 2 May 2006, 21:39, Reply)
« Go Back