Thursday, April 03, 2008

The Grand Slam Revolution

I think everyone who reads this knows my affinity toward pancakes, especially on the weekend. Well, on Sunday I was really hankering for some good 'ole Denny's pancakes, so I took Brett for a late breakfast when I got out of work.

We haven't been to Denny's in a while and normally it isn't the best of service. But today was an even worse exception for the rule. I felt so bad for our waiter, Lorenzo, who was one of like 12 employees doing all the work. He was helping both sides of the restaurant while the rest of the female employees sat around the register gabbing and texting with the what-I-would-assume-to-be manager on-duty. It took us at least a half hour before we got drinks and had our order taken.

Now, normally I would probably leave if no one acknowledges our existence, but this was just such an extreme case of poor restaurant management that we stayed to see how bad it could get. Well, let's just say it didn't get bad, it got weird.

Somewhere between eating my Meat Lover's Skillet and my side of buttermilk pancakes, the French and American revolutions walked into the restaurant.

No lie...

I looked up with a dribble of maple syrup on my chin to see a man dressed as Napoleon carrying a sword and wearing a wig asking for a table for 12. Right behind him came George Washington, some French debutante (equipped with a peacock feather fan), and what I could only guess was some American revolutionary-era dressed woman.

Everyone stopped and just stared. I could overhear the manager saying, "When did the Pilgrims land?"

Brett just continued eating like nothing was wrong, or at least strange about this image. Twelve grown adults dressed in a specific era of clothing (and might I add that some of the men had quite nice looking legs to pull off the white tights) ordering "Moons Over My Hammy" isn't something you wake up in the morning expecting to see.

When I asked Brett if he would take a picture of me with his cell phone and the guy with the sword, his response was, "Let Napoleon eat in peace."

Good grief. Can't a girl even get a picture with a historic figure and some pancakes?

Needless to say, we won't be going back to that Denny's in a while. It took us until 3:30 to finally get out and pay after seeing one of the chefs literally walk out of the restaurant carrying a double cheeseburger and a cigarette.

I think that Denny's has entered the Twilight Zone...

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