Un-Food For The Masses

This is embarrassing to write...

Call me a glutton for punishment, but, we ended up "dining" at Coco's again last night.  Yes, that unshaven armpit of a restaurant we recently swore off.  You can partially blame our 82-month-old [step]daughter for this catastrophe, as it was wholly her suggestion.  I'll take responsibility for acquiescing which is obviously the greater crime of the two.

After purchasing our sweet little Christmas tree, our eldest expressed exceeding interest in having a family meal at Coco's which was right across the street from the tree lot.  Alright, we're behind on our dinner schedule anyway, plus, I like throwing good money at bad food - twice!  We might as well. 

Luckily, it wasn't as busy as last time.  In fact, it was quite empty.  Still, the host felt the need to put our name on the waiting list and then immediately take us to our table.  (Yes, you read that right).  After 15 minutes, a dude comes over and apologizes for not realizing we were in his section.  Apparently, the crickets chirping in the vast emptiness of the dining room must've drowned out our baby's constant screaming for a cup of milk.  We put in our order and the wife and I decided to have one of whatever Chardonnay they had on draft. (Yes, you read that right).  It was a delightful BV Coastal 2002 with hints of rusty piping, ranch dressing and gnats.  Disgusting.  However, it is alcohol and that's sayin' something.

About a 1/2 hour later, we still haven't received our food.  My wife flags our waiter down and simply asks, "Can you check on our order for us?  The clock's ticking with our littlest one here."  Immediately, the dude goes on the defensive telling us that he's been checking, the manager's been checking and that he's doing everything in his power and that if we could just be patient...  Keep in mind, this is the first thing we've said to him since we ordered.

Not 20 seconds later, he delivers our food.  He explained that it was our kid's portion of macaroni that was holding things up and apologized.  Um...OK.  Please don't explain. Seeing our wine glasses empty, he offers to bring us water.  After all, food sitting under a heat lamp requires priming if one is to swallow it.  He returns with two pints of ice water.  One is placed in front of me.  The other is placed in front of my wife, but, is immediately removed by the waiter due to a mishap involving the sweat of his forearm and the rim of said glass.  Fucking disgusting.

Except for being presented a check that belonged to the party of 9 across the room, we managed to somehow get the food into our stomachs and leave without further incident.  We chalk that up to some sort of early Christmas miracle.  We feel, this time around, we have learned our lesson.  Say no to Coco's.  I swear before the Internet and everything that is Holy (as designated by the new Pope) that I will never eat at Coco's again.  Except for breakfast.

One of these days, we'll find a pleasant dining experience outside of Hooters.