Saturday, February 18, 2017

CHILI'S CHILL

My daughter and I like to go out to dinner after our hair appointments.  We usually hit Outback, but the place is mobbed for a Thursday night.  Instead, we head toward home and stop at Chili's.

Mistake.

I've eaten at this Chili's before, many times actually, but this time the experience is horrible, like the Land of the Zombies.  We walk in and the hostess doesn't acknowledge us nor speak to us.  It's like she's wasted.  Finally, my daughter says, "Two."  The hostess leads us down toward the back, even though she has just seated two people in a booth that's not in the boonies.  No, we get the booth closest to the toilets and the backside of the kitchen.

Then, our waiter arrives.  He seems nice enough but in an awful hurry.  He doesn't seem particularly interested in telling us about the menu nor interacting with us at all.  After the meal comes, he walks briskly by and says, "How is everything?" while trucking along so quickly that he is there and gone before we can say anything.

Then, he disappears.

Oh, we see him waiting on other people, but he never comes back again.  He never asks us how the meals are, if we want more beer, if we want dessert, or if we want to pack up our leftovers.  I have to circle the entire restaurant, go through the bar, get ignored by the barmaid, and walk into the other end of the kitchen, away from where we are seated.  It isn't until my presence is noticed inside the kitchen that someone acknowledges me, all so I can get a take-out container for my meal.

Meanwhile, it is well-past eight p.m., yet the restaurant is smattered with screaming babies and yowling toddlers and a few kindergarten-aged children who think that the booth seats all around them are a giant connected jungle gym.  This is a school night (Thursday).  What in the hell are these kids doing out right now?

I think tonight will probably be my last experience at Chilis, at least at the one in my town, anyway.  I certainly don't need to be paying people to treat me like shit.  If I want that experience, I'll go to the professionals at Durgin Park or Dick's Last Resort and have a party with it.

It isn't completely horrible, though.  The Newport Pale Ale on tap is decent enough.  Too bad no one ever asks us if we'd like second mugs.