Applebee's really doesn't have a lot going for it, but we always end up there for half-price appetizers anyway. We went last night, and it was way more of a train wreck than usual. As such, the only way I could see to express my feelings about things was to do a few reviews of the people and events of the night. The people Elyse and I went with will get more proper reviews another time, but for now I'll be focusing on reviewing their roles in this Applebee's experience.
Vicki and Mark were delightful as ever. Vicki had just completed some form of big deal exam involving chickens, for which Mark had helped her prepare. Since the restaurant was loud and crowded, sometimes only Vicki and Mark could hear what I was saying, and sometimes I
couldn't hear what they were saying. It doesn't really matter, though, since the things I could hear were all pretty much gold anyway. They ordered mozzarella sticks and waited for half an hour after we all got our food before finally pulling the server aside and telling him to cancel them because it was clear they weren't going to get them, anyway. The waiter DID however manage to always get their drink orders. Hmm.
Rating: Five out of five bloody thumb print napkins. If you're going to Applebee's, you're going to want to bring Vicki and Mark.
Greg and Christine were uncharacteristically quiet at Applebee's! Christine had the best view of the bar and did her best to communicate to us what she was seeing without giving us away. Greg was oddly attached to his phone, which is rare for him. Greg was also very much not wearing his doopy fedora at Applebee's, but since I can't for the life of me figure out what the hell his hair is doing, it's hats for him. Center part? Vaguely fuzzy? Is that even a color? I don't know and facebook can't help me. Everything and everyone was having an off night at Applebee's, so I won't hold it against them.
Rating: Four out of five bloody thumb print napkins. Greg was simply not bringing his a-game this week. However, his performance was not bad enough to place him in the bottom two. Congratulations, you are still in the running towards becoming America's Next Top Model.
*this fedora is forgivable only because it is imaginary.
I usually bring the entertainment. Elyse doesn't always intentionally entertain, but she certainly is a joy to have around, especially when she accidentally assumes you are talking about her boobs and proudly explains her newly enacted safety-pin breast security system. Highlights of my night included attractive moose sounds, "Neil Kickoff," and being repeatedly kicked by the server. Elyse and I both had boneless wings and our back was to the server and the crowd the whole time, but that certainly didn't stop anyone from flailing and smacking us or making hideous noises behind us. Our photo was very obviously taken by some European tourists who all ordered Sizzlin' Entrees. Their food smelled horrible and they should feel bad about it.
Rating: Five out of five bloody thumbrpint napkins. We're the only reason we go anywhere these days. It's alright if I laugh at my own jokes, because everyone else is laughing, too. And they start before I do. A+ humans.
Charles was not our server's real name, but I don't want to get this guy in any trouble. I just want to bitch about how crappy a time I had at Applebee's and explain his role in the whole thing. I do this for
me. I am sure that every other night of the week, Charles is a fantastic server. I am sure there are times when he isn't markedly ruder after you tell him you're not buying expensive entrees and are just there for the cheap microwaved chicken bits. I am sure there are times when he remembers everyone's food and doesn't leave a single order of mozzarella sticks in the kitchen for half an hour. I am sure that there are times when he doesn't kick a single guest. However, he managed to kick me 9 times over the course of the evening. I was willing to ignore this until he finally brought our desserts to the table and planted his arm firmly down on mine. Instead of offering to replace the dessert that was now full of sleeve seasonings, dust, and scuzz, he muttered "oh, I'm okay," and walked away. It was remarkably confusing, and I had to throw out the top of my dessert. I didn't feel like complaining because at this point we all just wanted the get the crap out of Applebee's.
Rating: One out of five bloody thumbprint napkins. This man is likely the worst Applebee I have ever encountered. The one napkin he gets is a symbol of my faith that he is otherwise a very good server and was simply having an off night, because he honestly deserved a negative three for sleevin' up my food.
The Very Drunk Girls standing at the bar were definitely the worst thing about the evening. They weren't even drunk to the point of entertainment, but rather drunk to the point of racism, flailing and hitting my sister, and making hideous noises whenever they attempted to laugh. I first noticed the Very Drunk Girls after I heard someone laughing and hollering about a fat girl. I was instantly afraid they were talking about me, but I was relieved to find out it was actually just someone that one of their ex-boyfriends was talking to on facebook. The chunky girl then proceeded to go on a five minute rant about how fat and ugly that girl was, and how she needed to "fix her rolls and her ugly fat ass." Okay. After a little while, the same girl started talking about an Asian girl in her workplace that she found annoying. She started making "ching-chong" noises and squinting her eyes. She then erupted in hideous laughter and said "I don't even care if that's racist, I'm totally doing that the next time I see her!!" They each made a few very horrible barfing-snorting noises. Then the two girls started frantically thrust-dancing in the middle of the walk way, flailing enough to actually hit my sister. At this point, we left our money on the table and left. We had had enough. Applebee's was too much for us.
Rating: ZERO out of five bloody thumbprint napkins. These girls were absolutely awful and need to return to the house, pack their bags, and go home.
Neil Kickoff was the winner of the night, I assure you. Appearing on a muted TV screen, he came into our lives to discuss the NFL Kickoff, but left a star. The human equivalent of Piglet from Winnie the Pooh, all I could hear him saying whenever the camera showed him was "oh, d-d-d-dear!" He was small, old, and nervous, and came off like a tiny grandpa nervously running for eighth grade treasurer. At one point in the night, it was posited that he might possess a funny butt. Since his real name was never announced to us, I dubbed him Neil Kickoff. Neil Kickoff would never drunkenly make racist comments or hit you or leave secret sleeve flavorings in your food. Neil Kickoff would certainly never follow horrible service by drawing a smiley face on your check in an effort to get you to forget he kicked you nine times.
Rating: Five out of five bloody thumbprint napkins, with an additional bonus of three nervous forehead wipes! Invite Neil Kickoff to
your next meal!
I wish I could say I expected more of Applebee's, but this is the same restaurant where we found a dollar bill stuck to the window with dog shit.
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