Pandemic Fathers Day

22 June 2021

Story #1028

R. Linda;

What should have been a simple, lovely breakfast out turned into breakfast in the Devil's den, it did. Me Mam decided it would be nice, since things were opening back up, that she take the family out to a "real eatery" where we could mingle with the masses, maskless and otherwise (otherwise being vaccinated), and enjoy a semblance of life returning to normal. It all sounded good, but that's not exactly what happened.

The British Place we used to frequent for special breakfasts is no longer the British Place but the American Place. Trump successfully made it impossible for the former British owners to stay here, so they sold the place and are currently residing across the pond. The new American owners promised to keep the British menu along with their own. At first, this worked, but after a year of take-out, the new owners have blasted the Brit menu across the pond, and now it is all American fare. 

This did not sit well with me grey-haired, apple-cheeked little Mam. So she picked another bistro we have been supporting with occasional takeout during this last year of lockdown. We mostly ordered dinners, never breakfast, so we were under the impression that breakfast was probably as good as dinner. Wrong, oh my, were we wrong!

Father's Day dawned hot. I know you know the meaning of that word, living in Denver, where you are one step from hell as far as heat goes. When I drove to the bistro, a line of cars immediately made us all fret that the wait would be an hour. Optimistic as me wife always is, she jumped out of the car and asked the first wait staff how long the wait was. Meanwhile, Mam was mumbling we could just go to Dunks and get breakfast sannies. Tonya came back with a big smile, "15 minutes!" OK then. We piled out of the car and were directed to an outdoor table. I put the awning up to shade us, and we all sat down, only for me to find I was the only one sitting in the sun, and there was no room to find shade. 

We were given drinks and menus immediately, a very good sign, wouldn't you say? And then we drank our drinks for over 30 minutes, and it was sweltering outside. We ordered another round and drank for 10 more minutes. I was getting quite the suntan by the by; let's face it, I was sitting in the suntan section, after all. I noticed there were tables inside, so I got up and asked if we could move inside, you know, out of sight, out of mind. I was told yes! We did and sat in full view of the wait staff and the one cook. ONE R. Linda! One person was cooking, and he looked like he had just finished working on his motorcycle. He decided to slam a few eggs on the grill and munch on bacon while he did that. 

People who came in after us were served, and the take-out customers were served before those.  I was gobsmacked and sweat-soaked. We had to wait because we were a large party of people and not two or three or a take-out customer. Well, it had been an hour and 20 minutes, and I got up and went over to the cashier and complained. Oh yes, they were coming, they were short-staffed, and blah, blah, blah!

Our order was taken shortly after. The waitress told us the Father's Day part of the menu was decided on the night before, and she wasn't there for that, so she wasn't familiar with what sides went with any of the items ordered. So we took the extra sides. We didn't care that we were hungry, so we ordered. She took Tonya's order twice when Tonya told her she didn't order two of the French Toast with strawberries and strawberry cream cheese filling. But I had ordered two of the eggs Benedict because, by this time, I was famished. The waitress was drippy, hot, and confused. So were we!

So we sat and sat, and it was 25 minutes of watching take-out orders go out and no one being served inside or outside, for that matter. This time, the wife got up and complained, and we were given two small platters of French fries on the house with one small platter of over-seasoned hash browns. On the house, they said they were sorry for the wait. 

By this time, the kiddos were antsy and being prats. Mam was disappointed, and Ton and I just plain starved. The kiddos cleaned up on all the potato dishes, and we let them, hoping it would appease their appetites and attitudes. Only made it worse, it did. I tell ya, hungry kiddos can be as wired on potatoes as candy. I've seen it!

Finally, the three French Toast orders the kiddos asked for came out. They were served, and we sat there repulsed. The toast was floating in syrup enough to float a small boat and unappetising congealed icing sugar or, as Americans call it, powdered sugar that was clumped over the top. Tonya told them to start, or breakfast would go cold. Good thing she told them that, because it was ten minutes later, Mam got her western omelette, which wasn't an omelette but something that looked like it came out of the bin and was tossed on a plate. Tonya and I told her to start; we were sure ours would come soon. Stupid thing to say because by the time Mam finished (she couldn't really eat her meal. It was so dry and awful), it was 15 minutes later when one serving of Eggs Benedict arrived. I sat looking at it, wondering what the hell? It was two eggs over sandwich ham (not a Canadian bacon slice). No, that would have been too near the real thing. This was smothered in what looked more like egg yolk than sauce. The second egg, Bene arrived, and this was foisted on Tonya, who told them she ordered the French Toast with strawberries. Well, THAT was taking a while, so they brought her a plate of scrambled eggs with two slices of salty bacon and two tasteless sausages that went with the missing French toast. 

I forced the eggs bene down, and let me tell you, that sandwich ham was like pure salt! I would have ordered a bottle of Pepsi had I thought I'd really get it. As I was just about done, Tonya's French Toast showed up. I wish I had brought me phone for this because it was the most repulsive breakfast EVER!

She's ordered this very same concoction at another place, and it comes with three slices of French toast, a fluffy filling of strawberry cream cheese with bits of strawberry and on top is a dollop of whipped cream and sliced strawberries. Not this thing they served her. It was two pieces of French Toast slathered over both slices by a thick, cold cream cheese slab that someone had put some strawberry juice in and mixed up with tart slices of strawberries. The look on Ton's face as THAT was placed in front of her was priceless. 

"Wot be dat?" Mam whispered to me as Tonya's face turned a lovely shade of green.

"Breakfast as good as mine, without the salt." I quipped.

The waitress came over and told us all the sides and Tonya's meal were on the house for making us wait. She did inform us that the cook had never made Tonya's order before, so if it came up short, that was why.

Well, the bill came. Not only did they charge us for the crap they served, they charged us for EVERYTHING they had said they comped. Tonya told Mam not to tip them, but I did, and I knew I shouldn't have because the waitress was hardly talking to us; she threw plates down and was downright surly. I only tipped 10%, though. I was about to take the bill up with the cashier to complain, but Mam just wanted to leave, and the kiddos were acting up more than usual on a sugar high from all the syrup-drenched over their meals. 

Never again. No more take-out either. Done, done, done. We took our sweaty, grossed-out selves home. I would cook up a feast if they wanted, but no one wanted to look at food after that outing. There were at least 25 tables inside and out. There were two waitresses, one cashier and the cook (if you can call him that). One waitress was helping the cook in a limited capacity. She was too busy wiping sweat off her forehead with her forearm and chatting to think of the customer's needs. I fully understand they were understaffed for Father's Day, which makes me believe they should not have been opened because they made Father's Day hell for their customers. It was a holiday of sorts, and the weather was nice, so one would think they'd know the clientele volume would be bigger than usual. Honesty, it would have been better to tell us it would be a 2-and-a-half-hour wait, not 15 minutes! They lost customers over that. So again, while I sympathise that getting help is hard, don't lie to keep people there because they won't return. 

Gabe

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