Crap meals outI'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.
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chthonic, Thu 27 Apr 2006, 14:22)
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Many moons agoI had a friend - we shall call him Tristan, for that is his name - who lived in a huge fuck-off house in the country with 500 small yapper-type dogs, one for each acre of land, and so on.
(I say 'had' a friend, because he's a cranberry, but that's another story.)
His stepmum could cook one meal and one alone: those chargrilled reconstituted chicken things (which were charCOAL chicken by the time she'd done with them) and underdone chips. And part of the experience laid on at Chateau Fuckoffmansion was that during this smorgasboard of horrors we had the choice of two videos to watch: Bridget Jones or Down With Love (yes, he is gay, and would throw a hissy fit saying you had 'such issues' if you suggested watching anything else - think Daffyd when he tells his parents he's 'a gay'). I very nearly committed hara-kiri with the cutlery the third time I had to watch Renee Zellweger come down that fireman's pole and I've not been able to see her in anything without tasting lukewarm, soggy chips and dry chicken fillet ever since. I wasn't a chick flick fan to begin with, but that cemented my hatred of the entire franchise.
When I was a lot younger I went with my parents to a Wimpy in Tamworth. Where my dad found a blue health and safety-style plaster in his beanburger and the whole batch had to be quarantined. He got a free one though. And some little brats had coated the menu in ketchup.
Last time I ordered takeaway - a pizza I think - from a certain local kebab merchant on my way home from the pub, it gave me what I like to call Gastric Death (a constant stream of poo until you realise what it is and stop eating until your intestines stop squirming) for a week. On the plus side I lost half a stone. (It counts as a meal out because I ate it on the way home.)
Also I went to school with a girl who nearly died from eating McDonald's when she was about 3 - she's 20 now and hasn't touched the stuff since. (Then again my mortal enemy works in McDonald's in my home town, and the former Maladict in the drive-thru where I go to uni so it's not fun for me to go either.)
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Maladicta, Thu 27 Apr 2006, 19:00,
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