Applebee's Invasion

So I finally attended Friday night dinner last evening. Friday night dinner always occurs at 7pm and it consists of my sister Jess, her husband Travis, my cousin Jason, and his girlfriend Heidi. I finally found out about it two or three weeks ago and was like "why have you never invited me?" And okay, I get it, sometimes fifth wheels can be awkward, but not with your sister, brother in law, and cousin. So I weaseled my way into an invite. Then I was unable to attend due to prior obligations and sickness. But I went yesterday.

The chosen location was Applebee's. We show up at 7:02 and the place is packed. Like I'm talking packed. You know those Styrofoam peanuts that come in UPS boxes? Well, there were more people in that restaurant than there were packing peanuts in the box your Great Aunt Marge sent you for Christmas. We think about turning around, but we ask the guy at the front how long of a wait will it be? He says something, and then I am all "Oh, just two hours?" But he actually said twenty minutes, which is a long time if you are hungry and didn't eat your 3:30 after school snack. We stand in the door for a while contemplating our stomachs, and then Brenden (I'm a name tag reader) says, "Actually, it's only ten." To which I'm kind of like "are you just saying that because you want us to stay?" So I check the time on my phone and tell Brenden it is 7:04. Then Heidi says, "so we expect a table by 7:14." She's pretty demanding. I would like to fully note that we waited for 18.5 minutes until we were seated, which rounded up is closer to twenty, not ten. But whatever, maybe Brenden failed math class. Most of my fourth grade students can't round either.

After we were seated, we decided to give our server hell. By hell, I mostly mean we talked a lot and asked a zillion questions, like how much the beverages cost because we're all tightwads. That's the thing I hate about restaurants. Why can't you just say how much your margarita costs? Is it a secret? I mean, it's not like the margarita is a woman who will be offended if you ask her how much she weighs. Though I was fully asked by Heidi at dinner how much I weigh. I told her if she were a more observant reader, she'd know, because I fully revealed it in my vegetarian diet post. Apparently every Friday night dinner begins with disclosure of everyone's weight, though this is anything but Weight Watchers.

I really struggled over the menu because I don't eat meat, and Applebee's took away the spinach pizza they used to have like four years ago. Which sort of leaves me with salad. I don't really go out to eat a salad. I prefer to purchase food that I am too lazy to make at home. I ended up getting mozzarella sticks and a salad, because every Friday night sort of requires greasy goodness. I would just like to fully note that Applebee's does not do half order mozzarella sticks, but Red Robin does. This is because Applebee's knows I have no self-control and can't order a full plate of mozzarella sticks and only eat half. They're trying to fatten me up so I want to return every Friday night.

Heidi ordered raspberry lemonade or ice tea or whatever. Really, she wanted pomegranate lemonade, but our server, Robert, was honest with her and told her that pomegranate tastes like used berry mouthwash. Actually, he didn't say that at all, but I could tell he was thinking it. So Heidi got raspberry. On her third glass, she promptly complained that she could not taste the raspberry flavoring. This glass was brought by the general manager. I should back up.

Partway through our meal, the general manager (Corey...not that I'm naming names) and some woman came to check on us and bring us refills and whatnot. I am fairly certain that the only reason they did this was because Robert told them how completely needy and annoying we were being. So the manager had to check and see just how bad these customers were. Our group pretended to be pleasant, and Heidi even put in the good word for Robert so maybe he could get a raise or something and finally buy that dream car he's always been wanting.

Later in the meal, my brother in law Travis spilled his Coke all down his pants because he was trying to flick a chip at Heidi and his plan went horribly wrong. So then we all had to scoot down the circular booth so that Travis could sit in a dry spot. I passed him the plastic barf bag that Applebee's provided us with prior to our meal, so he could use it as a bib. It may have actually been a bag to put your take out food in, but it was likely in case anyone ordered the pomegranate lemonade.

Early into the meal, I made a puzzled expression. My sister asked "What are you looking at?" I had that look of confusion that you get when you realize you've seen someone before, and they look familiar, but you have no idea where you've seen them. I noticed another one of the male servers working in the area, and I knew that I had seen him on several occasions, but I couldn't place it. I knew it wasn't at Applebee's, because I rarely go to Applebee's on account of how all I can order is dessert, salad, or fatty mozzarella sticks. He also didn't get close enough for me to read his name tag, so that was of no help. More on him later. But it drives me crazy when I recognize people and don't know where I've seen them before.

Part of the entertainment of the night was provided by some people Heidi knew. This couple sat at a booth that was positioned for optimal viewing. We were fascinated by this couple, because mostly the date could also qualify as a felony. The girl, whom I will refer to as "Minor", and the guy, whom I will refer to as "Old Fart" (even though he was actually my age), spent time gazing into each others eyes. I am sorry, but if you are 9 years younger than your date, and you are still in high school, that is wrong. I am a mandatory reporter, so I sort of feel like I should have called DHS or something. Part of my fascination was with their conversation. I really wish I could have eavesdropped on it. I mean, what do you talk about if you are still in high school?

I asked Heidi where Minor and Old Fart had met each other, and I found out they met at church. So like, maybe Old Fart was teaching Sunday School and Minor fell in love with him because of his flannelgraph presentation. But this whole mentioning of church totally jogged my memory and I remembered where I had seen familiar-server-guy. He goes to my church. I have seen him at church. So mystery solved. Though the name tag thing is still bugging me. I think it was like, E--ooy---w--or you know, Edwardo. But not Eduardo, which would make more sense spelling wise. My eyesight wasn't that good though, and I didn't even have on my fake glasses to give me a vision boost.

When Robert came by later to listen to our complaining, he revealed to us that his manager is a pretentious jerk...er, I mean...I could totally tell that his manager was a pretentious jerk without even asking Robert. The manager totally did not pay attention to detail. For example, when he brought Travis a new Coke to replace the one he spilled down his pants, he forgot to bring a straw. Obviously, Travis really needs a straw, or like, a sippy cup. Plus, he failed to give Heidi the shot of raspberry flavored high fructose corn syrup that she so desperately wanted.

Eventually we had to leave, because my sister had ODed on penne pasta. In fact, she named her food baby Penny. Plus, you know, Travis needed to change his diaper. We apologized for our behavior, paid, and then left the premises, at which point our server Robert said "Oh thank you Jesus." Only I left my blog card on the table, so that way he could read this post and relive everything all over again, from our perspective.

So Robert, if you're reading this, I apologize again. We had a fun time even though we were bothersome and you had a zillion other people to take care of. Also, I am totally still going to fill out that manager complaint on-line. Do they give you coupons? Because Panda Express totally gives you a coupon code every time you answer a survey about your visit.