We've all had those dining experiences when things went dreadfully wrong. Perhaps it was a social blunder, an obnoxious diner, a waiter or waitress with an attitude, an embarrassing faux pas, or a food or beverage incident. Find out what others have had to endure by reading stories about dinners gone bad.
I currently work as the fry cook at a high volume beer and wings joint in Atlanta. Been there almost exactly one year, and will be leaving in one week. Here’s why…
Management sucks. My last job as cashier at a fast casual South African restaurant, where the manager and prep cook would frequently bang in the office while we were busy, was more tolerable.
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I was working as a waitress at a hotel restaurant. It was my first job so I didn’t have much experience and the restaurant was always woefully understaffed. People would just call in 5 minutes before their shift started and cancel or simply not turn up – and for some reason the managers never fired them! So the service was always pretty shoddy – with the best will in the world, one waitress can’t cover an entire restaurant. It was the only restaurant in the area; I think that’s pretty much the only reason people came – it was very expensive and the portions were pretty small!
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Many years ago my parents and I went to a popular pancake chain for dinner. This particular location was known for its poor service, but nothing like this one night. We were seated by a very disgruntled waitress, who took our drink orders and stormed to the kitchen.
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The last job I held waiting tables was at a neighborhood restaurant chain that catered to families and tried to liven up their bar area at night for the adult crowd. I tended bar at least one night a week and waited tables or expedited the rest of the time.
One day, my friend “Lacy” was tending bar and was preparing an order of strawberry lemonades for a table with a couple of children. About 10 minutes after the table (not mine) received the lemonades, the children began acting extremely hyper. One of the parents tasted the lemonade and was shocked by the strong taste of alcohol.
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My first job was working at what is still one of my favorite fast food restaurants, specializing in chicken. The schedule was perfect and the benefits of free meals on break definitely appealed to me as a 16-year-old. I was quickly moved from a fry station to drive-thru based on my customer skills and speed.
Each location was independently owned and our owner, Mr. “Matt,” seemed to be a fairly good boss. Granted, he was way too enthused about giving me a 15 cent raise, but all in all he treated employees well.
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Last summer, just around the corner from where I work, a new pizza place opened up. They are a smaller, local chain and I wanted to check out what they had to offer.
One day after seeing their Wednesday special posted on the sign by the road, “Two Medium 1-Topping Pizzas – $10.00″ I thought, “Great deal!”
So, I called in my order right after work – one pineapple pizza and one pepperoni pizza. It was for carry-out and they told me the order would be ready in approximately 15 minutes.
Right on the 15 minute mark I walk in, step up to the counter, and say, “Hi. Smith here. Two medium pizzas for pick up.”
I get a blank look and the worker says, “Umm. They’re not here.”
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We had some friends over one night to play board games and didn’t want to make anything, so we figured the best option was to order some pizza (before we played the board games, of course!). We ordered from a well-known pizza chain in Western Canada, one that we’ve ordered from numerous times before and everybody liked.
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I had my 30th birthday in November 2000 and arranged to go out for a meal with friends and colleagues. We booked an Italian restaurant I had been to before and liked. There were 21 of us.
The starters were fine, the main courses were fine. Service was very slow, but we were a big party and we were in a function room downstairs from the main restaurant, and everyone was having a good time, so I didn’t worry too much about that. Some of us ordered desserts, which didn’t come, although the waiting staff were very quick to bring more wine. Thinking about it now, I’m pretty sure they were deliberately slow with the service to encourage us to order more wine.
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