I'm hesitant to have this post under the label "
restauranting". This seems like a huge stretch...even for me. Last night, in a continuation of the laziest person alive theme, I ended up not cooking dinner. In the mail I found coupons for Jack In The Box, so when
Isom got home I convinced him this would be a good choice for dinner. He agreed, but only if we rode our bikes there. Fair enough...although does it really count as a "work-out" if you are riding to
Jack In The Box? When we arrived, there was no place to park the bikes...shocking. We rigged all three up to the gigantic light post right outside. A foul odor almost knocked me out when we walked through the doors of the restaurant. I think they call it meat. Mass confusion ensued at the register when I presented not one coupon, but
two coupons to the
manager. How people with zero customer service skills or even a spark of interest in fellow man continually become the person in charge, baffles me. This manager was rude. This manager was gruff. This manager was old. This manager was grumpy. This manager screwed up our order. Sometimes when you go to the worst places and get the worst service, it actually turns into something good---it's called free stuff. After neglecting to place my grilled cheese sandwich on our tray and arguing with
Isom about whether or not we ordered it to begin with, we ended up getting one for free. That's nice I guess. That was the only redeeming factor of our trip to Jack In The Box...unless you count Gabe discovering he
loves their ultimate cheeseburger as redeeming.
I'm hesitant to have this post under the label "restauranting". This seems like a huge stretch...even for me. Last night, in a continuation of the laziest person alive theme, I ended up not cooking dinner. In the mail I found coupons for Jack In The Box, so when Isom got home I convinced him this would be a good choice for dinner. He agreed, but only if we rode our bikes there. Fair enough...although does it really count as a "work-out" if you are riding to Jack In The Box? When we arrived, there was no place to park the bikes...shocking. We rigged all three up to the gigantic light post right outside. A foul odor almost knocked me out when we walked through the doors of the restaurant. I think they call it meat. Mass confusion ensued at the register when I presented not one coupon, but two coupons to the manager. How people with zero customer service skills or even a spark of interest in fellow man continually become the person in charge, baffles me. This manager was rude. This manager was gruff. This manager was old. This manager was grumpy. This manager screwed up our order. Sometimes when you go to the worst places and get the worst service, it actually turns into something good---it's called free stuff. After neglecting to place my grilled cheese sandwich on our tray and arguing with Isom about whether or not we ordered it to begin with, we ended up getting one for free. That's nice I guess. That was the only redeeming factor of our trip to Jack In The Box...unless you count Gabe discovering he loves their ultimate cheeseburger as redeeming.
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