Sunday, February 26, 2006
When Restaurants Go Bad
Today I ventured out to Detroit to see Sesame Street Live with The Significant Other (TSO) and the Two Evil Genius Midgets. People say things like "ventured out to Detroit", but what they really mean is "packed a 9mm and an extra box of ammo". We, of course, took the Purple Beastie, which feels like it has armor plating on it. Plus it has a gazillion cup holders so that we can, uh, uh... um... stuff it full of garbage?
Detroit was dead. And I don't mean with all the decomposing bodies, no. Nobody around. I thought maybe we'd neglected to listen for the nuclear/bio terrorist attack alert (is that orange? red? polka dot?) but no, it just appears that people -- gasp -- don't want to visit downtown Detroit on a pleasant Sunday morning! Go figure, who would believe it?
After Sesame Street Live we made our annual pilgrimage to the oasis of an actual restaurant -- where they serve... get this... food. Yes, yes, yes. I kid you not.
Our choice this year was Little Daddy's Parthenon in Southfield. That also happened to be our choice last year. And I believe the year before that as well. And let me tell you something -- Little Daddy's is not my Daddy anymore. Three consecutive years of decline in ambience, food quality, and now, this year, service. So here's how it went:
12:15pm - get to restaurant, tired, hungry, ready to eat
12:16pm - Greasy Hair Guy sits us down at a table and goes to get a high chair for Princess Diva. Both TSO and I notice immediately this will not allow anyone other than Kate Moss on a diet to go by. We also observe that we are on one of only two direct paths to the bathroom. We mention this to Greasy Hair Guy as kind of a bad thing. He looks at us as if we are there to destroy the restaurant.
12:17pm - get moved two whole tables down as apparently this will make everything all better.
12:18pm - get crayons and water from waitress - so far so good.
12:24pm - waitress comes to take order. The Two Evil Genius Midgets are mucho hungry and they, we note, have turned on the ignition to the Chaotic Meltdown Machine and moved it into first gear.
12:29pm - Firstborn accidentally topples a humongous plastic cup of ice water. Yours truly hears haunting echoes of the waitresses previous suggestion that he get a plastic-capped smaller cup ("oh no, he'll be fine" I said... like an idiot). Water gushes over table like a tsunami, covering everything including our coats. Firstborn gets three drops of water on his pants and cranks the gas on the Meltdown Machine. I begin devising a plan to become invisible.
12:29.0004 pm - TSO asks waitress for help. I ask for napkins but am told, no, no, no, we'll get a towel. Oooooooh, but it's dripping, I say and am promptly ignored.
12:31pm - waitress finally gets around to bringing a towel over to the table. By now the flood has extended to the floor and is threatening to remove the grime and dirt and actually make the place look respectable. TSO asks waitress about drying up the floor. Waitress makes critical mistake in suggesting -- if it's okay with TSO -- that she do it after we leave. TSO pulls out her pocket Nuclear Fuming Machine and enters secret passcode. Doomsday has begun.
12:41pm - we were told this was a restaurant... with actual food... which everyone else seems to have found, including the 4 people behind us who showed up 7 minutes ago and the 2 people across from us who showed up 4 minutes ago. The big group two seats away came in after, ate, and have already packed it in and left. TSO switches the Nuclear Fuming Machine to Kill Mode.
12:43pm - waitress says "your food will be out in just a moment". Sighs of relief.
12:44pm - waitress brings out Firstborn's hamburger. Nothing else. Walks away without saying anything. TSO looks like a bloody beet.
12:46pm - food finally comes out, but Princess Diva's spaghetti, which was supposed to come with "sauce on the side" (sounds kinky) has come smothered in red goo. Also, there is the matter of it residing in a small tidepool of water. TSO mentions this in a voice which should alert waitress to her impending death by Nuclear Fuming Machine, but the tone is lost on her and she goes on her merry way to replace the spaghetti.
12:52pm - despite my strong desire to become invisible, I have not, and Firstborn has managed to spill yet another glass -- thankfully not so full this time -- of water. It covers only my coat and we decide not to tell the waitress, whom I have fittingly dubbed "Ignoramus".
1:18pm - we have, against all odds, finished. Princess Diva has entertained us by throwing crayons across the table and also into the seats of other people. She has also flung a piece of spaghetti on my arm and, as I am working very hard on becoming invisible, I hadn't noticed it until now. Oh yes, we are that family unit. TSO detonates her Nuclear Fuming Machine on the manager, we pay and leave a tip (a small note at the top of the receipt that says "Dear Ignoramus - you're a stinky doo doo!" -- Firstborn's suggestion) and, after slipping and sliding on the wet floor, haul ass out of there. I have made a mental note to take significant amounts of drugs later to help me forget this meal.
They say sitting down at the table together is a very important family bonding experience....
---- Dantelope @ Elmo probably gets VIP service
Detroit was dead. And I don't mean with all the decomposing bodies, no. Nobody around. I thought maybe we'd neglected to listen for the nuclear/bio terrorist attack alert (is that orange? red? polka dot?) but no, it just appears that people -- gasp -- don't want to visit downtown Detroit on a pleasant Sunday morning! Go figure, who would believe it?
After Sesame Street Live we made our annual pilgrimage to the oasis of an actual restaurant -- where they serve... get this... food. Yes, yes, yes. I kid you not.
Our choice this year was Little Daddy's Parthenon in Southfield. That also happened to be our choice last year. And I believe the year before that as well. And let me tell you something -- Little Daddy's is not my Daddy anymore. Three consecutive years of decline in ambience, food quality, and now, this year, service. So here's how it went:
12:15pm - get to restaurant, tired, hungry, ready to eat
12:16pm - Greasy Hair Guy sits us down at a table and goes to get a high chair for Princess Diva. Both TSO and I notice immediately this will not allow anyone other than Kate Moss on a diet to go by. We also observe that we are on one of only two direct paths to the bathroom. We mention this to Greasy Hair Guy as kind of a bad thing. He looks at us as if we are there to destroy the restaurant.
12:17pm - get moved two whole tables down as apparently this will make everything all better.
12:18pm - get crayons and water from waitress - so far so good.
12:24pm - waitress comes to take order. The Two Evil Genius Midgets are mucho hungry and they, we note, have turned on the ignition to the Chaotic Meltdown Machine and moved it into first gear.
12:29pm - Firstborn accidentally topples a humongous plastic cup of ice water. Yours truly hears haunting echoes of the waitresses previous suggestion that he get a plastic-capped smaller cup ("oh no, he'll be fine" I said... like an idiot). Water gushes over table like a tsunami, covering everything including our coats. Firstborn gets three drops of water on his pants and cranks the gas on the Meltdown Machine. I begin devising a plan to become invisible.
12:29.0004 pm - TSO asks waitress for help. I ask for napkins but am told, no, no, no, we'll get a towel. Oooooooh, but it's dripping, I say and am promptly ignored.
12:31pm - waitress finally gets around to bringing a towel over to the table. By now the flood has extended to the floor and is threatening to remove the grime and dirt and actually make the place look respectable. TSO asks waitress about drying up the floor. Waitress makes critical mistake in suggesting -- if it's okay with TSO -- that she do it after we leave. TSO pulls out her pocket Nuclear Fuming Machine and enters secret passcode. Doomsday has begun.
12:41pm - we were told this was a restaurant... with actual food... which everyone else seems to have found, including the 4 people behind us who showed up 7 minutes ago and the 2 people across from us who showed up 4 minutes ago. The big group two seats away came in after, ate, and have already packed it in and left. TSO switches the Nuclear Fuming Machine to Kill Mode.
12:43pm - waitress says "your food will be out in just a moment". Sighs of relief.
12:44pm - waitress brings out Firstborn's hamburger. Nothing else. Walks away without saying anything. TSO looks like a bloody beet.
12:46pm - food finally comes out, but Princess Diva's spaghetti, which was supposed to come with "sauce on the side" (sounds kinky) has come smothered in red goo. Also, there is the matter of it residing in a small tidepool of water. TSO mentions this in a voice which should alert waitress to her impending death by Nuclear Fuming Machine, but the tone is lost on her and she goes on her merry way to replace the spaghetti.
12:52pm - despite my strong desire to become invisible, I have not, and Firstborn has managed to spill yet another glass -- thankfully not so full this time -- of water. It covers only my coat and we decide not to tell the waitress, whom I have fittingly dubbed "Ignoramus".
1:18pm - we have, against all odds, finished. Princess Diva has entertained us by throwing crayons across the table and also into the seats of other people. She has also flung a piece of spaghetti on my arm and, as I am working very hard on becoming invisible, I hadn't noticed it until now. Oh yes, we are that family unit. TSO detonates her Nuclear Fuming Machine on the manager, we pay and leave a tip (a small note at the top of the receipt that says "Dear Ignoramus - you're a stinky doo doo!" -- Firstborn's suggestion) and, after slipping and sliding on the wet floor, haul ass out of there. I have made a mental note to take significant amounts of drugs later to help me forget this meal.
They say sitting down at the table together is a very important family bonding experience....
---- Dantelope @ Elmo probably gets VIP service
Comments:
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Welcome to the world of paranoia. Wallow in it, enjoy, and along the way, consider writing for a "living". Kudos to your TSO.
# posted by 
: 2/26/2006 5:37 PM
: 2/26/2006 5:37 PM
Hey - if Mitch Albom and family voluntarily dine there, it can't be that bad! (Yes, he was seen with my own 2 eyes right before Christmas!)
I get the feeling that if I were Mitch Albom, I would be getting good service no matter where I went.
Maybe with you and the other 4 readers of this blog we can transform me into a celebrity! Yeah... that's the ticket!
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Maybe with you and the other 4 readers of this blog we can transform me into a celebrity! Yeah... that's the ticket!
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