What a day yesterday! I got to sleep in until 9:30, and spent a fabulous hour lazing in bed with Mystery Man (a guy who lives about 30 minutes away I’ve kinda been seeing, but Penny is the only friend who’s met him IRL). Since we both work jobs with goofy schedules, it was one of those rare days off together.
So for breakfast, we decide to go to Denny’s. Probably a poor choice at 11:30 on a Sunday, since everyone and their momma decided to go there as well, but the siren song of bacon and eggs could not be ignored. We were seated around 11:30 to a very frazzled-looking waitress, who was at the very least cheerful about the situation. Mystery Man and I got plenty of time to play on our phones, as our food didn’t arrive until 12:30. Mine was delicious. His was somehow less than room-temperature, even the plate was cold to the touch.
He called them out on it, and they reappeared about 90 seconds later with the same plate, the eggs dry and stuck to the plate, indicating a recent trip to the microwave. This, too, was understandably unacceptable, but to our amazement, the district manager was there on a Sunday! He was, unfortunately, completely ineffective, although watching the conversation unfold from my point of view was one of those situations where you don’t know whether to giggle, cringe, or just pretend you’re not involved. I chose the last. Mystery Man was very firm and polite (at least at first), and the manager was very firm and confused.
Once he got to the point of claiming that it was Mystery Man’s fault that it was microwaved, and didn’t understand the frustration at waiting an hour for microwaved food, he ate it anyway, paid the check, and vowed to contact corporate. Most threats like that of mine go completely forgotten, but with all the time I spent in retail, it’d be nice to see an escalation call that was actually grounded in reality.
Fast-forward to that evening, where Nick and Sarita invite me and Penelope to go have some dinner around 9 PM.
Denny’s. Of course. But it’s the one in Little Rock!
As if the gods had realized their tragic mistake, the one in Little Rock was like a small piece of heaven. I ended up ordering the chicken-fried-steak that I regretted not ordering at breakfast; our waiter, although just the tiniest bit kooky, was one of the friendliest people I’ve ever met, and from what I can tell, it was completely legitimate. None of this would have even been blog-worthy (is it even now?) if it hadn’t been for the fact that he was totally willing and excited to get in a picture with all of us, and even had his manager take it. He’s obviously the one on the right with the very striking hair.