Today, after church, we decided to eat lunch at a Mexican restaurant we’ve enjoyed in the past.
It was filthy. It was grimy. The carpet under and around the table was covered in crushed, dried food. The seats in the booth were dusted with crumbs. Water rings and crusty patches of sauce coated the table.
We sat down, looked around, looked at each other. My stomach lurched and recoiled. We couldn’t eat there. What changed in the past few months? Did the guy who took the bath in the Burger King sink become manager? Had they already exceeded their yearly budget for vacuum cleaner bags and tabletop cleaner? Did they decide the family of eight would feel right at home in a booth decorated like the underbelly of a wild dog?
Baskets of chips and bowls of salsa were quickly placed. The waitress took our drink order. We answered without looking her in the eye. She returned to the kitchen with her list. We got up, told another server we were leaving, and left a few dollars on the table.
If the public areas of a restaurant are less clean than the underbelly of a wild dog, then imagine the kitchen.
Some of the kids started to cry as we left. They were hungry and baffled—you don’t leave a restaurant until your food comes, you pick at it, you order 52 refills, you color the menu, and you beg for dessert. None of these requirements had been met. We barely sat down when we decided our immune systems couldn’t handle what was coming.
I’ve worked in restaurants. I know that if the seating area isn’t clean, the kitchen certainly isn’t. If the bathrooms are disgusting, so is the kitchen. Flee! Flee! And, quite possibly, flea! The embarrassment is nothing compared to the embarrassment you’ll feel when you have to provide a stool sample to a medical assistant.
If you’ve ever wrinkled your nose at a crusty salt shaker, tried to guess the shade of lipstick on the rim of your ice tea glass, or had to ask for a new fork more than once, you are eating at the wrong place.
Unless you are home.
Ick. Eww.
I’ve left restaurants upon discovering the restrooms are filthy, but I think a dirty eating area is worse. I’m guessing you found some place else for the kids to pick at their food and color the menu? (Chuckling at that description, by the way–you may have lost your appetite, but you still have your sense of humor.)
Oh my goodness- that is horrible! ICK!
Steph
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And you ate where?
That’s disgusting.
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Love the perspective of a restaurant visit from the children’s view. 🙂
Once we went to eat at an IHOP, and found the booth we were in had ants. (My husband doesn’t like to eat at IHOPs anyway — he says they are all sticky.) We told the server and seated ourselves at another table. It wasn’t too long before they seated someone else at the booth with the ants! Those customers didn’t seem to notice, though…
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There is a coffeehouse I used to eat at because they had great soups. Over the years it got grimier and grimier until everything on the surface of the table was stickky. Needless to say, I don’t eat at Sitwell’s anymore.
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Oh my word. You totally did the right thing. Never let embarrassement keep you anywhere you just don’t feel good about. Y’all could have gotten really ill from eating there. {shudder}
At least you left a couple of dollars for the little trouble they went through. I hope you found a nice place with less yuck factor.
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EWWWWW! I think you definitely made the right choice in leaving! I get the heebie jeebies just thinking about it!
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It was really nice of you to leave a tip! I don’t think i would have, although it was nice. I can’t stand a dirty table!
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What a funny post about a not so funny situation. Bleh.
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What? And you aren’t saying what restaurant it is? I’ve worked in restaurants too, so I agree with what you are saying. Makes you wonder if the owner/manager was on vacation all week so things were left undone. Tragic isn’t it?
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NASTY.
You may want to phone the manager, in a “I’m sure you weren’t aware of this” sort of way. My husband called the manager of a restaurant we ate at recently, due to TRULY subpar food and service.
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That is disgusting. And with the economy so terrible, we go out to eat less and less. I want great food and excellent service. Like you said, if I wanted filth, I would stay home!
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Yuck, yuck, yuck. Awful. I hate grimy restaurants and hotel rooms. I used to have a higher tolerance, but when I was pregnant with J we went to a favorite Mexican restaurant in GJ and we had to walk out, I couldn’t take it, dirty carpet, flies inside. It still makes my stomach churn thinking about it.
Yes, please share where this experience was! Icky yucky! I’m glad you guys had the sense to leave.
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OK, you HAVE to tell us which restaurant it was. If it’s the one I’m thinking of, I’m going to be sorely disappointed.
One of these days I’ll tell the story about the rat in the deep fryer…
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LOVE your last sentence. It’s too true!
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We stopped at a VERY popular and well advertised farmer’s roadside stand that is famous for their huge ice cream cones. There was so much traffic that we had a hard time finding a place to park.
While my husband ordered the ice cream for everybody I looked behind the scooper girl and the huge chocolate chips cookies displayed behind her that I had seen everybody walking around eating were BLACK with flies. I rubbed my eyes and looked closer–yep, big, hairy flies, not chocolate chips. The waffle cones were also covered with black flies–I guess the scooper girl hadn’t noticed.
I grabbed my kids and bodily shoved my still ordering ice cream husband to the parking lot. Ack–I still feel like the flies are crawling on me.
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