I don’t like to rip Restaurants for making mistakes. Mistakes happen. Waitstaff write down the wrong order. Chefs burn stuff on the oven. Stuff gets sent to the wrong table, what have you.
Point is…mistakes happen. And generally I’m forgiving of mistakes.
I’m completely unforgiving of choice. No, if a Restaurant chooses to do something stupid or rude. If Waitstaff chooses to be asinine…well, all bets are off.
Someone at Zankou Chicken, MADE A CHOICE to be rude last week. A choice.
I know who it is. I have a name. I’m choosing not to share.
Basically what happened is this. It’s about 8:45pm. I pull in and place my order for a Chicken Tarna Plate to go. Of course, the young lady who took my order had a hard time believing there was such a name as “Malcolm”, but…who cares? Orders in.
(Yeah, right…so this child has never heard of Malcolm X? Has never read MacBeth? Has never seen Malcolm In The Middle??)
Anyway, the young lady who took my order promptly vanished. No big deal. Chicken Tarna Plate takes a little bit of time to prepare. I’m cool. It’s all good.
I approach the Counter as I watch one Customer select which Whole Chicken she wants from the rotisserie. By which I mean, one of the Cooks/Food Handlers hefted UP the whole skewer, and displayed it over the counter as the Customer selected the second one from the left.
Didn’t know you could do that.
Then the problem kinda slow rolls to a start. I watch as the one of the Zankou Cooks/Food Handlers prepare a Chicken Tarna Plate. I think it’s mine, but it really goes to the young Teenybopper in front of me.
Again, all good. She was here ahead of me. I thought I was the only one ordering a Chicken Tarna Plate. But, no big.
But the whole time this is happening, the Teenybopper is talking to one of the Cashiers. Clearly they’re friends. I can tell this because the Cashier was clearly more absorbed in what her friend was saying than say…oh, I don’t know…speedily bagging up and fulfilling her order. And since the Teenybopper didn’t mind how fast she was going…
Yeah, they’re friends.
Anyway, the Cook starts prepping another Tarna Plate. In the middle of that, the Teenybopper asks for some kind of dressing she likes for the Salad that comes with the Tarna plate.
Okay, annoying. The Cook has to go back and get it, stopping making what appears to be my plate. But not the end of the world. After he’s done with that, he pauses for whatever reason and talks to one of his colleagues, leaving my undone plate to be.
Okay…still annoying, but again…not end of the world.
And suddenly, the Teenybopper…after she’s received her order, after she’s gotten an extra helping of this mystery dressing that…frankly…I didn’t know they had…suddenly decides that she wants her the well done part of the Chicken.
Again, remember…her order has been out for a few minutes. It’s been tagged and bagged for her. She’s even gotten a little something extra. But NOPE! Do it all over again.
Which would be fine…if it wasn’t done at my expense.
Of course now the Cashier has to stick up for her friend, and ask the Cook to A) discard her old order, and B) Give her the new order with a better cut of Chicken.
…the better cut, using the completed order…that was going to be mine.
Meanwhile, I’m sitting there wondering if I can cancel this order and get my money back.
It’d be one thing if they’d taken the time to serve me, THEN gone back and given this Teenybopper what she wanted.
At the same time, even though it’s a waste of food, if they’d offered me the Teenybopper’s rejected meal, I would have blown my stack. Truth be told, I was already mad as all get out. I’m sitting…waiting for my food, and this Cashier is making sure her friend gets A-List Treatment.
Me, she could give a @#$% about.
Finally, they both turn to me and apologize. To which I respond. “Doesn’t matter to me, I’m never coming here again.”
Let me repeat that Zankou Chicken. Never coming here again.
The Cashier had the NERVE to call it an order screw up. It wasn’t an order screw up. The Teenybopper changed her mind after her food as bagged up, and forced me to wait while they made her another.
And the Cashier (and thus Zankou Chicken) CHOSE to accommodate this request, at the expense of my time.
Well, now I was steaming mad. I did not blow up. I did not curse. I did not call her names. Why? I had all the power. I was choosing to withdraw all my future business from Zankou Chicken. Period. We were done.
She apologized again, to which I responded: “I could really care less. I’m not coming here ever again.”
“Would you like something else?”
“Keep it. Just get me out of here.”
She handed me my food, and I walked. Never to darken Zankou’s doors again.
I was really mad, feeling that sense of powerlessness when a Business runs you over like that.
But then I remembered…
…I have a food blog.