Another fake phone call, this time between me and Winthorp of Fleming's:
[ME]: Hi there.
[WINTHORP]: ... yyyyyeeess??
[ME]: I ate there with a group Sunday evening, and I've gotta say, the experience was a let-down.
[WINTHORP]: And why is that, pray tell?
[ME]: Okay, I hope you're either recording this phone call, or you've got some paper and a pen because I've got a lot to say.
[WINTHORP]: [lying] Of course, madam, I intend to write down every complaint you have.
[ME]: Yeah, right. Well, anyway, service was incredibly slow for my group of five. We got there at 6:30, and we didn't get to leave until after 9pm. I had another social event I wanted to attend, but when my friend texted me at 8pm and I hadn't even gotten my entree yet, I told her to count me out. Our waiter wasn't just slow; he was stupid, too. My friend had slightly less than a half glass of champagne left, and the waiter took it as if it was empty. He sneaked it away from her, but at least he gave her another glass when she complained. He did try to charge her for that replacement glass, though, which was not cool. He had no sense of urgency, except in getting that half glass of champagne away from my friend, and he knew very little about the menu.
[WINTHORP]: And what was your waiter's name?
[ME]: Fuck if I know. He was tall, thin, and had longish dark blonde hair that needed a good shampooing.
[WINTHORP]: I'm TERRibly sorry about that. But how was the food?
[ME]: Well, I got the Sunday prime rib special, which I notice you guys jacked up the price recently. But, considering how expensive everything else on the menu is, and considering you really don't get sides with any other entrees, I felt like this was the best deal. $36.95 for prime rib, one side (I got baked potato), a caesar salad, and a dessert. Okay, not bad, but my prime rib was mostly fat. What the hell am I paying for?? At least the salad and baked potato were big and delicious. Oh, the lava cake I got for dessert was weird.
[WINTHORP]: How do you mean "weird"?
[ME]: I asked for mine without pistachios, and I got the strangest presentation. My dining mates who ordered the lava cake got whipped cream and ice cream on the same plate as the cake, but I got a separate container full of whipped cream, and another container full of ice cream. I have no complaints about that, mind you. What I found interesting was the giant chocolate skid mark on my plate. [see picture] It seems like your chefs go into danger mode when they're presented with an order that is slightly different from normal. And the lava cake wasn't even that good.
[WINTHORP]: I'm TERRibly sorry about--
[ME]: Jesus tap-dancing Christ... quit saying you're *TERRibly* sorry! Your saccharine attitude is making my diabetes worse!
[WINTHORP]: Is there anything we at Fleming's can do to get you in our restaurant again?
[ME]: Not likely. Possibly for happy hour, but I'll never come over there for dinner again.
[WINTHORP]: Well, I'm TERR--