Lessons I Obviously Have Not Learned

I thought I had lost this post! But it was just hiding! This happened in June '08...and I have been back to Chilis since. I just can't resist.

Last night we took my parents to eat at Chilis because we wanted to go to Lowes and Walmart.



For anybody who remembers the prior post about my experiences with Chilis when it's been followed by a trip to Walmart, you can probably guess where this is headed. It's headed south.



So we did the call ahead seating, and we arrived at Chilis at the time we expected to do so. It was a Friday night, so we were expecting a bit of a wait...to be seated. We were seated within a few minutes (showing that at least something at Chilis works right--go call ahead seating). We had a cute young thing bring us our drinks and she was so prompt, I actually had faith that we were going to have a good meal. Then she uttered the words "____ will be your server this evening and she'll be right out" and I knew it was over.



Our waitress appeared several minutes later, and took our orders, and even repeated them back to us. 40 minutes later, the food appeared, and it was WRONG. Mom wanted her steak medium, and it was closer to well done through out about three quarters of it. Only the part surrounded by fat was even slightly pink. Dad didn't want peppers or mushrooms, and they were on the sandwich. I had asked for no onion straws, and you could see where they picked the straws off--chunks of batter was stuck on the cheese, and the bacon was burnt to the point where all it tasted like was charcoal. We told her it was wrong, but that we weren't going to wait another 40 minutes for more food, so we would suffer. There was no "sorry about that" or "let me see what I can do for you." There also was no ketchup on the table, and we asked for some, and the WAITRESS never came back with it--I had to take it off another table. To the cute young thing that got us our drinks' credit, she appeared with ketchup about 10 minutes later, but I'd already done the waitress' job. What the heck happened to customer service? If you don't want to take care of your customers, get a different job. Work for the government. You don't have to be a waitress. There was no sign of anybody managerial around, and frankly, I didn't want to wait 40 minutes for them to hunt somebody down--if they ever did, so we just left a tacky tip and walked.



Then we trekked into Lowes, where I really wanted to find some flowers for my box that's out front. I enjoy "gardening" in a box--no worms that way--because it relaxes me, and I usually can hold onto a plant. Lowes had nothing. Okay, so they had like 4 types of flowering plants that could be in a box, but they all needed direct sunlight, and everybody knows there's no direct sunlight in the ghetto, so they weren't plausible. There was a hanging basket of petunias, but there were no price tags, and nobody around, so we left. I guess there's another place that doesn't want our money. You know, for bitching that the economy is so terrible and that businesses are suffering, one would expect businesses to have people to help you spend your money.



I did not drown my sorrows from Chilis in a cake that would have ended upside down this time. Instead, I drowned my sorrows in actual crap for the house that we needed--Woolite, dishwasher soap, Kool-Aid for the Kiddo's care package. We actually didn't really buy junk food, and that's what I really wanted. However, I think the lesson from Chilis that God's trying to help me realize is that my expanding waistline and perpetual need to buy new clothing to meet this demand is something that He will help me control (since I have no self-control) with poor customer service. This will also allow Him to help me learn to control the purse strings/spending tempations.



Gee, if I could just remember these lessons, I might get skinny and we might become rich with savings. I wonder if we'll learn it this time.



Probably not, as we're headed to Colorado Springs this weekend and then I have a sorority convention the next weekend. That means more eating out and more money flowing out, no matter how awful the service.