BMG

Corey is here visiting from AZ and we’ve been on the go. The service we’ve been getting sucks. My family says I’m a jinx. It started on Saturday after picking up Corey at the airport we brought him to Hamburger in Paradise. When the waiter delivered our drinks, he spilled an entire glass of Coke on Corey…mostly on his leather jacket.

While it wasn’t nice, our good moods weren’t spoiled and we felt sorry for the waiter, so no complaints. Then when our food was delivered, Corey’s didn’t come and the waiter didn’t offer an explanation. At the time, I thought his lack of communication spelled trouble, but he was already humiliated, so we waited patiently…and waited…

Finally, I’d had enough and told the manager.  I’m not allowed to complain in front of my family.  I promise my head doesn’t start spinning on my neck, but my family thinks it does. While they were all happy we were given a free meal…none of them like to speak up.

Of course, my husband, Mike used the occasion to regale his son and daughter with my conduct with the phone guy.  I only pointed out it isn’t wise to ask someone if they qualify for the senior discount when they don’t and won’t for a while. It’s like asking a fat woman if she’d pregnant. The phone guy asked Mike if he was 65, and damn! I didn’t like it.  I’m not even ready to be married to an old cuss. I told the guy it was uncool to ask that and then he felt he had to defend his actions and made it worse. The guy wouldn’t shut his mouth.  Of course, my husband feels sorry for him and I should have ignored him. Maybe so.  But maybe, if my head really did spin on my neck, my family would leave me alone when I speak up.

 Besides, my hamburger was uneatable pink inside and I only complained to them. However, my family assured me it was my fault for saying medium-well. By this time, they’d cowed me into submission.

Today, it happened again…bad service. We went to Bob Evans and ordered drinks and food at the same time, per our server’s request. Twenty-five minutes later we still didn’t have drinks or food.  I asked another server to tell our server to bring our drinks.  You would have thought I’d done the unthinkable by my son and daughter’s reactions. But they shut up when they saw him standing at a computer where he could see us, but didn’t budge. Five minutes later…no drinks. This time Corey suggested leaving and I applauded him. Tiffany was harder to convince, but we had two wee-ones with us who had long tired of the crayons.Of course, as we were leaving the manager wanted to know what was going on.  And I had to tell her. Didn’t I? 

This is one of the things I miss most about the BMG’s. If they have bad service or inadequate food, they say so. Especially if the butterscotch martinis aren’t up to par.  So what do you do when the service is bad?