I’m putting this here because it didn’t p.o. me really so it’s not relevant for the Pit, plus it’s pointless and I felt inclined to share it.
I went to the local Applebee’s tonight. My waiter was Antonio (called Tonio in the title to make the pun work) and the menu said "add a Caesar salad to any entree or sandwich, $1.99. “I’ll have a grilled chicken sandwich” say I, with ‘my good man’ inferred, “and I’d like to add a Caesar to that.”
Be right out, says Tonio.
Fifteen minutes later I ask Tonio when he refills my glass for the third time “Any news on that salad?” He vows to check on it.
Then out comes the runner, toting a field- we’re talking acreage here- of Caesar salad with about two dead and scalded chickens butchered and scattered on the top. "Whoa… " say I, “this isn’t what I ordered.”
You sure? asks the runner.
(‘My good man’ inferred but not spoken) “yes, I’m quite sure. I ordered a chicken sandwich and a Caesar salad, not a Chicken Caesar.”
Hmm, he says, and walks back to the kitchen to check on the order, *leaving the 7 pounds of chicken salad on the table. Newbie, I’m guessing. Same with Tonio.
Tonio comes back and asks “How’s your salad? Is it good?”, the fact that my silverware is still wrapped and that the 43 inch salad in front of me is untouched not seeming to alert him to the fact that it’s not being eaten.
“No, I told the runner that this isn’t what I ordered— I wanted the grilled chicken sandwich and a Caesar salad, not the chicken Caesar.”
Oh, so you didn’t want the Chicken Caesar?
By Jove he’s got it. "Nope, I just wanted the sandwich and the regular dinner Caesar. "
Okay, gotcha, sorry bout that. My bad.
A few minutes later, as I’m still sharing a table with this football field of salad of Romaine lettuce and dead bird, Tonio returns bringing a fookin’ huge second field of Romaine, this one without the dead bird.
“This is huge” I say. “I’ve had Caesar’s here before and they weren’t this size.”
Well, that’s the regular Caesar. Maybe what you’ve had in the past is the small Caesar. It’s about half that size.
“Which is the $1.99 one?”
Oh, that’s the small one.
cricket
cricket
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“That’s the one that I wanted.”
You wanna to go box for this one?
“No, I don’t want this one at all. I’m not that hungry. I just want the regular… excuse me, the $1.99… Caesar salad.”
Hmmm… okay (with a tone of suspicion as if I’d ordered one with not so much rat in it) and he takes away the chicken Caesar but leaves the enormous second Caesar on the table.
Silence for a few minutes, then Sharon (called Sue for the pun to work) comes up. Hi, says she, I’m Sue and I’ll be your waitress. Tonio has gone home from shift change. Can I get you some more tea?
“Please, but also…” and I briefly apprise her of the situation, not knowing if I should eat this salad or if it’s to be replaced.
She re-emerges a few minutes later- “Hi, since we can’t reuse food once it’s been served, why don’t you have this one and we’ll charge you for the small one.” No problem.
I eat a few bites of the salad- the things enormous- and its clear I can’t finish it and still have the sandwich. I ask for a to-go box and put the remaining two acres of Romaine into it. By the time I’ve been there an hour there’s no sign of my chicken sandwich, so I ask about it.
Oh, did you have a chicken sandwich?
“No, not yet, but I did order one.”
What’d you have?
I maintain politeness even though it’s not so terribly sincere. “I had a grilled chicken sandwich and a small $1.99 Caesar salad.”
Okay… let me check on that.
A few minutes later a runner brings to my table a grilled chicken sandwich. And a small $1.99 Caesar salad.
When Sue (who’s really Sharon) comes back, I learn she has no sense of irony as I explain it. Finally, she agrees to remove the small salad.
I finish my sandwich. The bill comes. I’m charged $6.49 for the sandwich and $4.99 for the Caesar salad (which one I’ve long since lost track of). I tell Sue “I wanted the small Caesar salad… the $1.99 one…”
This is billing you for the regular one, she says.
“Yes, I understand that, but that’s not what I ordered. I wanted the small salad…”
But that’s the big one that you put into your box…
“May I speak with the manager, please?” I ask, very politely. I’m really not mad, just irked, and I don’t intend to pay for what I didn’t order. Sue seems to be irked, but she calls the manager.
I explain to the manager (a quite nice lesbian with lots of “flair” [if you’ve seen Office Space] who seems exhausted) the situation. She tells me “Okay… I’ll change this to the small salad on here.” Thanking her, I return to my book.
A moment later out comes the new check, this time showing a chicken sandwich and a $1.99 Caesar salad. I pay the check. Sue takes the check. Before Sue gets back with my change, the runner is at my table.
You had the small Caesar salad, he asks?
“Several times”, I reply, “several times.”
Point: I think that Dick Van Dyke would have been big without Mary Tyler Moore, but I don’t think Mary Tyler Moore would have been big without Dick Van Dyke. Either way, he sucked in Mary Poppins.
