Tonight, we all went out to Chili’s for dinner. It was an… interesting experience. We went in, got a table, and all that, no problem. Then our server came around and took our drink order. No problem. While he brought drinks, I debated back and forth between a burger, fajita quesadilla, or fajitas, but finally decided on the fajita quesadilla.
Then it was time to place our order.
Sarah ordered first. Oldtimer burger with American cheese and mayo, nothing else, and onion straws instead of fries.
Sophie ordered next, asking for a grilled cheese and cinnamon apples. We had to repeat “grilled cheese” a couple of times because the server had a hard time hearing it. He joked about it even, laughing about being 60% deaf.
Then I ordered my fajita quesadilla, asking for steak instead of the usual chicken, and some beans, with no guacamole or sour cream.
A couple of minutes later, he comes back and confirms that Sarah wanted her burger with the mayo on the side, which she did, and asks if we’d like Sophie’s food to come out early, which we said would be very nice.
A few minutes later, he comes out with Sophie’s meal: grilled chicken and cinnamon apples.
So we patiently explained that we’d ordered the grilled cheese, and he apologized and took it away to swap it out. He returned a few minutes later with the sandwich.
Shortly after that, he arrived with the rest of the food. For Sarah, a burger and fries. For me… steak fajitas with beans and extra guacamole. Since I was thinking about the fajitas anyway, I was okay with that, and was able to overlook the guacamole since it was on the side.
Sarah pointed out the fries and requested that he get her onion straws, which he left to do. While he was off doing that, Sarah opened the burger and discovered it had no cheese on it. So when the server returned, she pointed out the lack of cheese and asked him to have them melt some cheese on it. “Swiss?” he asked.
“No, American,” Sarah reminded him. So he headed off with the plate, returning a couple of minutes later with a cold slice of American cheese on top of it. By this point, the comedy of errors is such that she decided not to say anything.
A few minutes later, a manager came along and apologized for the incorrect sandwich (Sophie’s) and the fries thing. We said we understood about Sophie’s meal — “grilled cheese” and “grilled chicken” sound similar enough. But she apparently didn’t realize my order was wrong too. I mentioned that, and that it was okay, and at that point she comped the meal.
There were so many mistakes that we couldn’t be angry about it — especially since the guy was so apologetic about it, and was quick to respond to each mistake. Now, sure, we only tipped him $2 on what would have been a $30 tab, but still…