Death to IHOP; or, Why I'm home sick today
Written: Jul 06 '00 (Updated Jul 06 '00)
|
Product Rating:
|
|
|
Pros: None
Cons: See review
|
|
|
| evansec's Full Review: IHOP |
I'm sick.
I have this indescribable funk that has somehow invaded my digestive system.
It all began at about 4 a.m., when I woke up and had an undeniably queasy feeling in my stomach.
I had to call in sick to work, where my boss was (most likely) less than pleased, particularly because I have yet to rightfully earn any sick days.
So, I'm staying home. Thanks to you, IHOP.
Don't get me wrong. One of my dearest friends and I used to be IHOP regulars about three years ago. We'd hang out, drink tons of coffee and chat with the waiters and the regulars. It was our place.
No longer.
I accompanied a different friend last night to the International House of Pancakes, all rarin' for some breakfast grub.
The waitress appeared, took our drink orders, and shortly returned to take our food orders. Since we were not ready, she said, "I'll be back in a couple of minutes!" and went to assist other patrons.
"A couple of minutes" turned into at LEAST ten or fifteen. During this time, I perused through the menu and had made my decision: I would order the Migas (scrambled eggs mixed with salsa, cheese, jalapenos and tortilla chips, with a side of hash browns and tortillas to wrap the goodies in) and a side order of silver dollar pancakes.
But wait...there were no silver dollar pancakes on the menu! ACK!
Surely they had them hidden. Surely I could order some "side" of two small pancakes with a bit of butter and all the multi-flavored syrup I could eat. Surely.
So, when the waitress took my order, I said, "I'd like the Migas, and a side order of pancakes if possible."
"Okay," the waitress said, and checked off her ticket. I'd assumed everything was fine. "I'll be back in a couple of mintues with your food," she said. Yeah, right.
So, the waitress brought out our food. Jason (the friend) got his breakfast platter, and I got my Migas. Then she whipped out this HUGE plate of three enormous buttermilk pancakes with butter on top. Then, she dropped another butter tub onto the table. Butter was smeared everywhere. Ugh. "Oh, I'll get you another one," the waitress said. The waitress returned with another butter tub, but didn't even CLEAN after the first one. GROSS.
So, Jason and I ate our meals, staring at the smeared butter and tub in the center of our table. I attempted to eat my pancakes (which was not a side order at all, but an actual pancake entree) and my migas and felt incredibly sick afterwards.
Jason picked up the ticket and said, "Oh, my. You won't believe how much those pancakes were."
I grabbed the ticket and took a look. $4.25, it said. Four dollars and twenty-five cents for buttermilk pancakes I could've made in my own house with a little of Aunt Jemima's help. Thanks a LOT. With my Migas and coke (which, mind you, the waitress never offered to refill), my dinner was twelve wasteful dollars.
Jason and I got up, went to the cash register, and paid for our meals. I gave the waitress a measly ten percent tip. Grrr.
So I wake up this morning with this strange stomach funk. Oddly enough, the last thing I ate was that horrid meal at IHOP. Thanks to them, I can't go to my job today.
That'll be seventy-two dollars, tax-free, buddies.
Recommended:
No
|
|
|
|
Epinions.com ID:
evansec
|
|
Member: Eleanor C. Evans
Location: Little Rock, Arkansas
Reviews written: 150
Trusted by: 55 members
About Me:
What can I say? I'm a music fan and a writer.
|
|
|
- Add to My Yahoo!: 
- Add to Google Homepage: 
© 1999-2009 Shopping.com, Inc.