An evening with Grace. . . .

OK! Here it is. . . my little

RANT

about customer service in this day and age (or the lack thereof)

Take for instance my little dining experience with dear hubby and another couple this past Friday night. . .

We go to a restaurant that we haven't tried before and upon pulling in the parking lot notice very few cars there. (That right THERE should have been a warning)

This was supposedly a 'classier' establishment--but we notice upon entering no host or hostess to great us--just a very disheveled, morbidly obese waitress by the name of 'Grace' who finally stumbles up to us and seats us in a booth right between the only other 2 booths that were occupied in the entire place!

There was an ENTIRE EMPTY RESTAURANT before us--but we manage to be sandwiched in between the only other booths that had people in them! My husband cleverly notices these booths were by an open window--so that drivers going by would see all 3 booths filled up and figure that 'Man! That place is hopping! Just look at all those people in there!' (Come to think of it--that's what drew us in in the first place. We drove by that window and saw that 'most' of the tables seemed filled)

My observation at this point was that Grace was a woman of convenience. She didn't want to have to traverse the entire room--so she sat us all down in the same area where she wouldn't have to walk more than 6 feet at any given time. . . Add to the fact that she didn't need to explain about the 'today's specials' since they were cleverly stained all over her uniform from delving into them in the back. Grace was sort of an enigma--as her persona did not fit the name she was given at birth. . .

Grace dutifully passes out the menus and promptly tells us that there has been an 'altercation with the menus' and some of the food choices are no longer available. (At this point, I was wondering if there was any fighting going on in the kitchen or something) She also asks us if we are 'implants' or originally from around these parts. (I was checking my blouse to make sure that everything was buttoned up properly) when she stated that she firmly believed in reintarnation. (which, I suspect is coming back to life as a hillbilly)

She also called her boss an 'ignoranus'--which I'm assuming is a person who's both stupid and a bit of a jack-donkey. . .

It then dawned upon all of us that we were not dealing with a Mensa scholar and so must adjust our actions and responses accordingly. . .

Since there were four of us and we had come as couples and I was sitting next to my husband and my friend was sitting across from us with HER husband---we politely asked Grace if she could do separate checks for us. This turned out to be more than her poor brain could handle as during the rest of the meal she kept coming back and asking who went with whom and whose bill she should put each item on that was delivered to our table. (Never mind the fact that we pointed out to her in the beginning how we wanted the checks divided. AND we were sitting right next to our spouses, for Heaven's sake! AND when my friend was leaning on her hubby's chest, holding his hand and cooing to him through the meal--Grace came back and asked her: "Who are you with again?" So, in exasperation she pointed to the guy in the booth behind her)

When we finally got our meals delivered and straightened out since EVERY SINGLE ONE OF THEM were delivered to the wrong person. . . My friend's hubby asked for some ketchup. The crestfallen look of our waitress, Grace, was a sight to behold. She shuffled 3 steps over to the booth behind us and asked the good folks there if they were done with their ketchup because 'these people' at the booth next to them wanted it. Then she just grabbed it and brought it back to our table and plopped it down!

We were pretty amazed to find out that they apparently must have had only one bottle of ketchup as we spared Grace any further discomfort and passed it along to the booth in front of us when we were through. . .

When Grace wandered back in halfway through the meal to see if there was 'anything else we wanted', we could tell by the look on her face that she was PRAYING no one would need anything. But doggone it! We were given these 4 teensy tiny dinner rolls that were so small the pat of butter that accompanied them was actually bigger than the roll. And they were GOOD! And I wanted more. (so did everyone else--but they were too afraid to say anything to Grace)

So summoning up all my courage and in my nicest most cheery voice, I asked if we could please have some more dinner rolls. . . Grace was not a happy camper. That meant that she would have to go back to the kitchen instead of collapsing in her cot in the corner as she had the habit of doing during our meal.

She came out quite a bit later with TWO TINY ROLLS in this giant basket and placed them in reverence at the end of the table and had the gall to say: 'Please tell me that this is enough and that you don't need anymore because if you do, I will have to go back and get more and I am tired of being woken up when I'm working.'

Let's see--there were FOUR of us--we all wanted rolls--even a single roll wouldn't be enough to feed ONE because of the minuscule size--at this point I just didn't care if I was in the 'Bozone Layer' or not. Bozone meaning the substance surrounding stupid people, that stops bright ideas from penetrating. . . With Grace, the Bozone layer, unfortunately, shows little sign of breaking down in the near future.

So I speak up. 'It is NOT enough. We want more rolls. Please! Enough for all FOUR of us.'

I have no idea what went through Grace's uncanny mind at that point--but as she shuffled off into the distance, I wondered if we would ever see her again.

Actually she came back in a half hour to bring us an ENTIRE GIANT BASKET with LOAVES of bread, which could have rivaled the feeding of the 5,000! We stared in amazement and didn't say anything--but managed to dive right in--and I knew better than to ask for any more butter to go along with it.

The evening went along fairly well and even though we would have liked to try some dessert--when Grace appeared by crawling on all fours and pulling herself up to her chin to reach the end of the table and TOLD us we were full and couldn't possibly want anything else. . .we took pity on her and agreed.

She left the checks, which had to be figured out by the help of our new friends at the 2 other booths, paid our bills, tucked Grace in her cot, told her goodnight and left. . .

Needless to say--we will NEVER go back to that restaurant again--and I'm sure Grace will not mind a bit. . .