Hi All! Okay, I don't know about you all, but I'm hoping I've gotten to know at least some of you well enough that maybe this won't be too weird to post. (Or maybe it will be? I suppose we’ll find out!) The short of it is, yes, I actually take notice of my food before I eat it. Why most people don't notice what they're eating, I have no idea. (I’m hoping some of you do notice & have stories to tell.) So, I am offering you this thread in the macabre spirit of October—and in memory of those gross blindfold games we (hopefully) all had to play as children—so please, go for the gusto and share with us your best quasi-disgusting public dining experience
I am thinking broadly here, so go for: Crazy things you've found in your food | Strange Snafus at the Drive-Thru | Why I don’t like my food to mix & mingle (<-- I actually outgrew this. Sort of.) | Holiday & Homemade Adventures | Whatever else you can think of! Go for the “eewww” on this!
I'll start.
We rarely dine out. There is a very good reason for this—you never know just what you’re going to get.
On this day, we were out at a place we’d previously had a pleasant dining experience. On this day, my salad arrived with a hair in it.
The new gal, not sure what to do, went to ask her manager what to do & returned to tell me to pick it out as it was probably mine anyway. Well, I had her stand there as I extracted this very long, very not my color hair from where it was entangled among the lettuce and tomatoes. Since she just brought the plate to me, she decided to do the right thing and wisk it away—only to return moments later with the same plate.
Oh, I know it was the same plate. It had the same scraps of lettuce on it arranged the same way under the same chunks of tomato.
Except, as I considered whether or not I wanted to eat this salad that I had just removed a two-foot hair from, I noticed something small and black half hidden by a leaf. There, on its back, with its legs curled up in the air, was a fly.
I called the waitress back. After agreeing with me that she wouldn’t eat that either, she again removed the salad. A little while later, the same salad came back, minus half the salad.
Everything’s now okay, right? Oh, no. This was a three-for-one doozy. I forget what the problem was with the meat (I think it arrived bloody rare) and had asked that they warm it up enough to at least get rid of the blood. You guessed it. That meat came back this side of charred. Dentures of steel couldn’t have chomped into it.
Ah, well. Yes, we paid for the meal. Management wouldn’t have it any other way. So, we paid and never went back. The way I see it, after having paid for a meal I couldn’t eat, I might as well get some use out of it as a story!
I am thinking broadly here, so go for: Crazy things you've found in your food | Strange Snafus at the Drive-Thru | Why I don’t like my food to mix & mingle (<-- I actually outgrew this. Sort of.) | Holiday & Homemade Adventures | Whatever else you can think of! Go for the “eewww” on this!
I'll start.
We rarely dine out. There is a very good reason for this—you never know just what you’re going to get.
On this day, we were out at a place we’d previously had a pleasant dining experience. On this day, my salad arrived with a hair in it.
The new gal, not sure what to do, went to ask her manager what to do & returned to tell me to pick it out as it was probably mine anyway. Well, I had her stand there as I extracted this very long, very not my color hair from where it was entangled among the lettuce and tomatoes. Since she just brought the plate to me, she decided to do the right thing and wisk it away—only to return moments later with the same plate.
Oh, I know it was the same plate. It had the same scraps of lettuce on it arranged the same way under the same chunks of tomato.
Except, as I considered whether or not I wanted to eat this salad that I had just removed a two-foot hair from, I noticed something small and black half hidden by a leaf. There, on its back, with its legs curled up in the air, was a fly.
I called the waitress back. After agreeing with me that she wouldn’t eat that either, she again removed the salad. A little while later, the same salad came back, minus half the salad.
Everything’s now okay, right? Oh, no. This was a three-for-one doozy. I forget what the problem was with the meat (I think it arrived bloody rare) and had asked that they warm it up enough to at least get rid of the blood. You guessed it. That meat came back this side of charred. Dentures of steel couldn’t have chomped into it.
Ah, well. Yes, we paid for the meal. Management wouldn’t have it any other way. So, we paid and never went back. The way I see it, after having paid for a meal I couldn’t eat, I might as well get some use out of it as a story!
