Tag: eating out

Date Night

Welcome to one serious Motherfucker of a Monday here at FYB. This has been Our First Day Back from one of the most fucking Bizarre Road Trips I have ever been a part of. It was one of those Road Trips You go on to Relax, but When You get Home You realize You did a ton of shit Accept Relax. Something to that Effect Anyways I Digress.

This Monday’s Post is DATE NIGHT by the Masters of the Macabre, The Oracles of Odd That’s Right it’s by Creeptoons. I was Saving this Dark Slice of Absurdity for a Particular Day, and that Day has most fucking Definitely Come. A Day as Surreal as it was Shitty shall We Say.

PLOT: An Argumentative Couple goes out for Dinner on Date Night, but things go awry, and the Cantankerous Couple end up Headed to Divorce Court.

Enjoy.

Thanks For Watching,

   Presented By Les Sober   

Millennials, a Bistro, and a Whole Lot of Bullshit.

This Weekend My Wife and I went to see Her Cousin Ave compete in that Weekend’s Auto Races since Ave had become an Adamant Racer several years ago, but this was the First time My Wife and I were able to Attend. After the Race We got the pleasure of meeting His Pit Crew so to Speak as They were Working Their Asses off at the Time, and We were Afforded an Up Close and Personal look at His Race Car. Ave’s Parents Kay and Jay along with Ave’s Wife Steph were there though They didn’t attend a great deal of Ave’s races. This was simply because Watching Ave Race was/is Nerve Wracking to Say the Least for His Mother and His Wife.

After Hanging out for awhile Behind The Scenes We left the Race Track and headed for Our Dinning Destination for the Evening just a short 15 minutes Away called Pompous Bistro and Beer Garden. Since Ave was the one who made the Reservation (and I trust Ave), AND with Beer Garden in the Name I was Highly Optimistic.

You see I rather Eat in than Eat Out honestly since Restaurants can be a Huge fucking Hassle especially if You’re Not a Trend Chasing Hipster Lemming or a fucking Foodie. In Addition I am NOT a Fine Dining Person fucking Period.  I am Reviled by the so called Luxurious Fine Dinning Experience I find it Disgusting all Around and on All Levels. The Whole Arrogant Elitist Pomp and Circumstance feeling, nay believing They are Superior to Others based on Their fucking Bank Accounts. They can Administer Fas Gras Enema’s to Each other for all I fucking Care, but as For Now on the Subject of Alleged Fine Dining I Digress.

           

We pulled up outside and parked on the Street My Wife’s Family had already arrived, and We walked Through a Gate into a Maze like Garden that really was kind of cool. As We walked around a winding trail through the Garden making Our way to the Hostess there were Little outlets a few with Fire Pits, a Couple Lounge Areas, and several Tables Intertwined throughout.  There was so much Vegetation along with an Abundant amount of Flora and Fauna that the Garden had an underlying Jungle feel to it.

At last We reached The Hostess station which was located Outside of the Main Building as it were. I say Building because it was a Mediterranean Style Outside Dinning area where there No Actual Walls there’s just Shades hanging in-between Pillars to Keep the Sun out of Dinners Eyes. I’ve seen this Concept in the Islands of The Great Southern Swamp, and what I have always wondered, and still do is How the hell Do You Keep People from Robbing/Vandalizing the Your Establishment if THERE NO FUCKING WALLS?!

Anyway We meet up with My Wife’s Family Who were Seated already when a Overtly Dramatic Millennial Euro Trash Waitress sauntered lazily up to Our Table. She was Wearing a Sun Dress with a Plunging Neck Line so there was plenty of Opportunities to Show Off Her Collection of Pretentious Tattoos. She had every fucking Cliche in the Book of Hipster Tattoos there was the Traditional Ying Yang, OM Sign, Buddha Statue, Lotus Flower, The Joshua Tree, A Japanese Coy Fish, a Fairy, The Symbol for the Female Sex, an Elaborately Done Peace Sign, and at Least 3 Asian Characters that Adorned Her Arms, Shoulders, and Neck.

          

She Talked as if She was Bored as Fuck and could care facing Less about Us or any Other Customers. As She stood at the head of Or Table with Her head Slightly Tilted to one side, and a Vacant Stare into the Horizon informed Us of the Following. Apparently the Bistro had recently Implemented a New Policy Our Food Would NOT be coming out all Together BUT rather randomly when ever it is or isn’t ready. This concept of Theirs goes against  fucking Common Sense as it Utterly fucking Transforms the Dinning Experience into One Drawn Out 3 Ring Bullshit Culinary Circus.

Going Out to Eat is at the Heart about Spending time and converting with Friends and Family over Food. That is why Real Restaurants rely on Timing as one of the Key Principles/Factors of Service in The Food MUST GO OUT TOGETHER NEVER SEPARATELY. This Provides for the Meal and Social Gatherings Cohesiveness and Efficiency on All Fronts. Bottom Line: No One Likes or Wants to be The Person at the Table that Doesn’t have Their Food Point Blank.

We gave The Euro Trash Hipster Our drink Order and though the Sign claimed this was a Beer Garden it was unlike any fucking Beer Garden I’ve been to Before. Usually a Beer Garden is a Large Banquet Hall lined with Rows of Tables and Benches, and They have a Very Distinct Bavarian (German) Theme to It. There is also Large crowds of Happy Beer Loving Binge Drinkers Hooting and Howling with Laughter in Total Abandon. I say this because when I looked on the Menu There was No Beer List. There was a Wine List and a Cocktail Menu, but again Not a single piece of Literature on the Table pertained to Beer. As I was annoyingly glaring around I noticed a Floor to Ceiling Black Board with the Title “NO CRAP ON TAP” at the Top. Under the Header was a short list of 8 to 10 Craft Beers I was Unfamiliar with, and that was it that was Their Beer Garden Concept.

           

We got Our drinks and about 25 minutes or so a Stereotypical Portland/Seattle/Colorado Millennial Girl sporting a Bright Plad Flannel Shirt, Jeans, and Sneakers arrived at Our table. She gave Us the Specials which I didn’t pay attention to. She then goes into a LONGER DISCLAIMER that Due to the New Policy Our Food would NOT be coming out Together but rather whenever the fuck its ready. I ordered a Bowl of Lobster Mac and Cheese, My Wife Had one of those European Meat and Cheese Samplers, Ave and Steph ordered Tacos, and Kay Ordered the Lobster Mac and Cheese with an additional House Salad, and Jay ordered two Hot dishes I forget what they were.

40 minutes Later the First couple Dishes come out and, Ironically All the Dishes were Hot Dishes while the Salad and Cold Meat and Cheese Plate did Not. Again this makes No fucking sense since Obviously a fucking House Salad and Cold Meat and Cheese Plate should have been first since They were the Easiest to Fix. About half an Hour passes as the next few Items came in a On going Bizarre Fashion. My Wife’s Aunt Kay was Served Her Mac and Cheese 20 Minutes BEFORE Her House Salad was served. Also why the fuck You wouldn’t prepare the Two Orders of Mac and Cheese since I had order it as well at the same Time and serve them accordingly, But I was left in the Lurch as it were.

           

Finally everyone But My Wife and I had not only been Served They had completely finished. And since We had to kill so much fucking time waiting on Our Food that was slowly trickling out of the Kitchen We had exhausted virtually every topic of Conversation. Everyone was Tired from the Days Affairs and having Eaten where Now Succumbing to the Tiredness that comes with Digestion. Then My Wife’s food came to the Table directly followed by Mine. Now My Wife’s Family was being as cool as shit about it it was still apparent They were ready to Head on Home. It didn’t matter unfortunately even though They were being cool You can’t get Your food last and NOT feel fucking rushed, and that sucks since You go out to Enjoy your food and not feel like You have to Eat it fast as fuck since it came out so goddamn late.

The Worst Part was the Perky Flannel Millennial Girl kept popping by Our table periodically, and was trying to be all uplifting and positive TOTALLY OBLIVIOUS to the fact that the Entire Table was slowing becoming fed up with Their Food Service. Honestly if We weren’t having Dinner with My Wife’s Family I would have walked the fuck out as soon as the Euro Trash Millennial made the Initial New Service Policy Statement. And of course I’m trying like a Motherfucker to bite My Tongue and play it cool since I’m with My In laws and Not absolutely Loose My Shit since You couldn’t designed a Restaurant I could have Hated any More Than I fucking Hated Pompous Bistro I fucking assure You. I just kept envisioning snapping and Choke Slamming The Millennial Food Server wearing 1950’s Librarian Black Rim Glasses, and a Wool Knit Hat (so He looked like the Lost Member of Cold Play or some shit) through a fucking Table.

           

At last the Painfully Drawn Out Affair was done accept Now (and I don’t have a fucking clue WHY) Some People at Our Table wanted Dessert. Mind You had some unfinished Business that I had to attend to later that Evening, and it was a 90 minute Drive back to where I needed to be to do so. My Wife saw Me cringe with Contempt and the mention of Dessert reassured Me it was just Ice Cream with a Pastry or something similar So it should be that Bad. I responded by saying that We were dealing with complete culinary idiocy being felt out by a Cliche Cast of Mind Numbing Millennial Trendy Hipster Sons of Bitches.

Seriously it Took an HOUR before a House Salad that had been ordered actually made it to the Table not to Mention Her Cold Meat and Cheese Deal that essentially came out Dead Last. My Point being I had No Faith in these fucking Fools, and Any Possible Good Will had Faded Away Long, Long Ago. I wanted just One thing and one thing Only. I wanted to Leave Immediately at that Point in the Evening. Just under Half an Hour later The 3 Ice Cream Desserts Arrived, We ate Then quickly, Paid, and Left Never to Return.

           

I still Can’t wrap My head around such a Obviously Outrageously Idiotic Service, and No One I have asked Plenty of Whom Have Experience be it Past or Present in the Restaurant Service Industry. All I have come up with is Pompous Bistro was Built as a Monument to The Mundane Millennial Lifestyle where No One makes Plans, Shit Just Happens, and Where People can Lounge Around all Day with No Concerns or Responsibilities. Who cares when Their food comes When They have No Where To Be and Nothing To Do other than Obsess about Social Media, Play Moronic Games on Their Smart Phones, Stream Netflix for 12 Hours StraightBinge Watching Bullshit, Idly fucking around with Apps, and Sitting Around Working on Their Never Going to Happen Screen Play.

Thanks for Reading,

by Les Sober

So The Other Night Like An Asshole………

So the Other Night I My Wife and I went out to Dinner with a Couple of Friends and Associates. We ended up in the City at some Upscale sort of Trendy place named after a fucking Flower. It wasn’t a Michelin Star restaurant Owned by some Pretentious fucking Chef, but it Definitely did have that air of a Fine Dinning Restaurant to it.

The Food was Fine nothing Spectacular, Yet quite Tasty indeed. When the Check came I decided on a Whim like an asshole to Pick Up he Check. Without looking at the Bill I went for My Wallet, and extracted a Credit Card thus crossing the Point of No Return, That’s due to the fact that Everyone at that point had seen Me go for the Check and All so now at this point They all assumed (as would have I) that I was paying the Bill Period End of Story.

     

I finally after backing Myself into a Financial Corner I looked at the Check to see the Total which was around $400 including Tip (and to be fare there was a GREAT Deal of Drinking Involved as Many a Cocktail met Their demise thanks to Our Throats), and immediately had what the professionals would refer to as “Buyers Remorse”. Well aware I had stuck Myself with the fucking Check, and took a minute to Compose Myself.

I called the fucking Waiter over and He came bounding over like a Peppy Cheerleader fucked a Gazelle, and Our Server was the Bastard Offspring of an Inter-special Fuckfest. As I tried not to fucking go blind thanks to Our Servers insanely White Shirt that there was in fact a Problem with Our Bill. He pleasantly asked what the Problem a tad Condescendingly. That was NOT a Smart thing To Do.

   

I decide right then and there that I have fucking had it, and the last fucking thing I need is some Pretentious Shit Stain of a Server working at a Pompous and Over Rated Restaurant giving Me a fucking Attitude. I then told Him I believe the Mistake was that He didn’t bring out Our Entrees to Suck Us Off delivering The World’s Finest Blow Jobs.

I then informed Him that if He was going to fuck Me He could at least have the fucking common goddamn decency to bring a Tube of Lube to the Table along with the motherfucking Check. I let Him know that if I was aware of what the Bill might have been I would have had a lot More to fucking Drink to Soften the fucking Blow thats for fucking sure.

     

ALSO considering a Chunk of the rather Hefty Bill belonged to the Server via His Tip I then suggested perhaps in fact He should Blow All of Us or at Least a Round of Hand Jobs because after this fucking Fiasco We could all use a fucking Happy Ending.

Just had to get that Out of My Head.

Thank for Reading,

  By Les Sober

We Don’t NEED a Sign.

Yesterday I along with My Mother drove My Brother and His Wife into the nearest City so They could utilize The Airport there to fly home. We went into the City early so We could have Lunch at some little Bistro that My Brother’s Wife had heard of (I forget if She had or hadn’t been there before or if She is just a real fucking Fan of Vietnamese Food), and wanted to eat at.

My Brother’s Wife is a bit more out on the Trendy curve of things, and NO She is NOT a Hipster thank fuck for that. She is in actuality quite awesome so just wanted to clarify that. So I was curious as a cracked out cat, BUT at the same time wary as shit that this was virtually uncharted waters for Me. I have had Vietnamese food only once or twice in My life and sadly with My aging memory can’t remember much about the food.

Anyways We drove into the working class neighborhood where the Place was located and found a place to park. We then walked about 4-5 blocks to the Bistro or whatever the fuck trendy title They identify Themselves as/with.

What is quite cool is that the Place (I hate trendy shit so I refuse to say Bistro, Gastropub, or Fusion as they are pretentious and inane) is housed in a some what renovated Corner Gas Station.  I say some what because while the Owners had full gutted the shit out of the inside and transformed it into a Hipster Clubhouse with a professional kitchen, the outside remained untouched.

The exterior while being rather plain and completely ordinary it was in need of some attention. The paint was severely cracked and chipping badly, the wore out sun bleached Logos and Advertising for the former Gas Station/ Garage were barely visible.

Another reason to mention the condition and aesthetic is due to the fact the Place is one of those Hipster “We’re so fucking cool We don’t need a Sign or any sort of exterior recognition whatsoever, and don’t Advertise because We’re old school word of mouth trendy Hot Spots so Fuck You.”

Thus if You didn’t know it was a place to eat You’d drive right the fuck past it as You would just immediately dismissed it (if You acknowledged it at all) as just another Abandoned Gas Station/Garage so in fact fuck Them.

We decided to sit outside under the awning that used to protect the Pumps and customer’s from Rain, but now Tables. Inside not only was unpleasing They were also fucking blaring some shitty Folk EMD Hybrid shit at Night Club Level for some ungodly reason.

The menu was small with only 6 items on it which I liked as I’m not too familiar with Vietnamese food, and thus wouldn’t be overwhelmed by a larger menu. In the end I tapped out and let My Brother pick for Me. I didn’t want to waste time lingering and loitering staring blankly at the menu as if all of a sudden it would be come clearer to me.

On the reverse side of the menu were the beverages. The first thing I noticed was the entire drink menu were Alcoholic. I have NO problem with Alcohol and am a fan of Beer, but not at 12:30 pm on a fucking Tuesday for fuck’s sake. What I found funny as fuck was at the very fucking bottom of the drink menu it said in tiny lettering “If You Would Like A NON-Alcholic Beverage Please Ask Your Waiter/Waitress”

I thought this was funny because People in general would expect it to be the other way around where one would have to ask for alcohol as the alternative. I also found it wildly fucking entertaining that at the bottom of the Food side of the menu it read again in tiny lettering:

Buy Kitchen a Beer- If you enjoyed your food & want a chance to do something nice for the kitchen staff.

I found myself wondering after reading the above “So what they whole staff splits a singular beer? That doesn’t seem very nice. And why only Kitchen Staff what about the fucking servers? What They don’t deserve a fucking free beer?! Bullshit.

I decided to play it say and stick with fucking water. I didn’t wan to waste ( fucking dollars on some crazy Asian soda/juice only to take a sip to find out I hated it. Fucking Hipster Prices.

The Food was really good and very fucking spicy which again I really thought was cool. The only thing I didn’t dig about are Server was One when You read of what you wanted He had to be a pretentious twat and repeated with its proper pronunciation in a condescending manner.

Two was when He asked “Would You like more water Bro?” I take issue with this because come on Guy “Bro “talk about un-fucking-professional. Also I HATE BEING CALLED BRO. I’m not Your Bro in any way shape or fucking form. I don’t want to be refereed to a Bro as I think Bros are complete pieces of human shit. Fuck You Bro, Fuck Bro, Fuck You.

In the end it was a good meal at a odd Hipster hangout with an excellent outside eating/seating area. The staff weren’t overtly dicks keeping the Douchebaggery to a minimum. They didn’t pipe the shitty Folk EMD music outside through speakers or what have You. The only down side was the aforementioned Hipster Prices which resulted in a fucking $92.49 bill for a basic Lunch deal.

Thanks for Reading,

 By Les Sober

“I’m Missing Two Legs.”

The other night on the way home from the grocery store (where My Wife and I had gone specifically to get shit for dinner) got lazy and went the Fast Food Route. We opted for Fried Chicken.

We pulled up to the Drive Thru Menu, and the Drive Thru Girl did the whole whole Hey how the hell are you, How’s the kids, Welcome to this Fast Food joint, and What do you want today bullshit.

We told her that we would like an 8 piece Dinner. The Girl mumbled something I really have no fucking clue what the hell she actually said. Now We could hear all the back round noise of the kitchen and shit so we couldn’t figure out who exactly the Girl was talking to us or a fellow employee. It was quite unclear.

We waited a minute or two and then repeated the original order. The reply we got from the Drive Thru Girl was this one statement:

“I’m missing two legs.”

My Wife and I had no idea what to make of this so my wife asked her to repeat what she had said and again it was “I’m missing two legs.”

 

This miscommunication goes on for just shy of 5 minutes where My Wife keeps attempting to clarify what the fuck this statement turned mantra was all about. The Entire time all the Girl said was I’m missing two legs.”

I was sitting there just as puzzled as my Wife and I started to wonder myself what the whole two legs statement means since the problem was we were missing any and all context.

I began thinking is this Girl handicapped and really wants me to know it for some bizarre reason? Did she just kill her Manager, dismember the Corpse, and now realized as she is bagging up the body that the legs are missing? Did she just suddenly look down and her fucking legs were missing? Was she an Amputee who had misplaced her prosthetic legs at work while sitting and working the Drive Thu?

In the end the explanation is more than anti-climactic.

What the Girl was trying in her own absurd way was this:

By “I” was We as in The Restaurant itself.

By “Missing” She meant Out Of

And By Legs she meant Drumsticks.

so “I’m missing two legs.” translated into “We (the Restaurant) are Out of Drumsticks, Can We make a substitution for you?”

She was also referencing that an 8 piece bucket of said Fried Chicken contains 2 Breasts, 2 Thighs, 2 Wings, and 2 Legs. Which when I thought about it made perfect sense.

What? Oh I know what your thinking and Your thinking well Duh no shit Sherlock.

Well as basic the answer is I had never spent any time (not a single second of my many, many years on this planet) contemplating the exact contents of a 8 piece bucket of Fried fucking Chicken, and the ratio of the various  Chicken’s Parts.

Thanks for Reading,

Les Sober