No Steak For You
There’s this restaurant in my neighborhood that has the worst service of any place I’ve ever been. I’ve gone half a dozen times because it’s close and the food is really, really good. But the last time I went, I ordered the steak and eggs and my girlfriend ordered something really basic.
So we’re sitting there for a long time — long enough for the people next to us to sit, order, and get their food. So I’m about to flag down the waitress and see what’s taking so long when she walks over and says, “I’m sorry, but the kitchen says you aren’t allowed to have your steak.”
“They say I can’t have it?”
“Yeah, sorry but they say they can’t make it for you.”
“I don’t understand, you mean you’re out of the steak?”
“No, they keep making it wrong.”
“They… huh?”
“They made three already but they keep making it wrong. Cooking it wrong. You can have something else.”
So then I order something else, we wait over half an hour again, and the waitress says they lost our order ticket and we left.