Posted on 03/23/2013 4:07:54 AM PDT by MeneMeneTekelUpharsin
On Monday, I stepped up to the line at my trusty downtown Chipotle Mexican Grill just as the server was replenishing the sour cream. She had on one glove, but the operative hand was bare and she got a few dots of the creamy, white stuff on her palm.
Then, she LICKED it off.
I tried to play it cool and asked the server to wash her hands as she slipped on a glove covering the contamination. The transaction didn't happen, needless to say. After leaving the restaurant, I tweeted my outrage. Chipotle corporate folks responded lickety-split in two minutes via Twitter to say they would investigate.
They later told me privately on social media that they had viewed the entire incident (as well as my unfiltered reaction) on video.
(snip)
"There is no rule that says you have to wash your hands after handling money, especially if you're not handling money with your bare hands," Gray said. "But, we always recommend to management that people wash their hands after handling money because money is dirty."
(Excerpt) Read more at blog.chron.com ...
2) At a large convention banquet in southern Mississippi: Chicken Kiev slips and falls onto the floor from the large tray of dinner plates being carried by a server. Server does not see it fall, and unknowingly kicks the Chicken Kiev across the floor like a hockey puck. Another server picks up the Chicken Kiev, puts it on a plate on his tray, then serves it to another table of diners on the other side of the room.
My wife and I with another couple were in Ottawa , eating in a great pizza place. Seated in the next booth was a Muslim family , dad and 3 kids, , the mother dressed in a burka. She picked up a piece of pizza, then somewhere, just above her waist , flipped open her burka and in and then up went the pizza. She ate it with the burka in place . Three pieces of pizza , then she used a napkin to clean up under there.
We laughed about it later but at the time , everyone else stopped eating to watch.
We lived in a very small community that had one restaurant/bar. It was the only place to eat out for many miles and many years. The real estate company I worked for had an office that was part of the restaurant’s building. We noticed the mice that infested our office and made life interesting.
One time, I ordered a hamburger and it had a hair in it. When I pointed it out, the waitress pulled out the hair and said “it’s good now”. Didn’t eat there for a long time. Thought we’d try it again. Fish fry on a Friday night - cooked on the outside, frozen in the middle.
I went in to get an ice tea. It was a warm day and there were a lot of flies in the dining room. All the silverware was set out for lunch. The waitress grabbed a can of Raid and started spraying. Dead flies and bug spray was falling all over the tables and silverware.
One morning, my husband took a friend of his to the local place for breakfast. His friend started feeling kind of sick. My husband told him that breakfast there was the safest meal of the day (true) and that after a while, you built up an immunity (also true).
I suspect they sent a “bedbug letter”.
That is, many years ago, an elderly woman took a Pullman coach trip and was severely bitten by bedbugs. So she sent a complaint letter to Pullman Company.
They sent back a letter apologizing profusely, proclaiming that such a thing had never happened before, that the entire car had been sanitized, and that those responsible had been sacked. It was supposedly signed by the company executive responsible for customer service.
But attacked to the letter with a paperclip, was a handwritten memo: “Madge, send this old b**** the bedbug letter.”
The zippered burka mouth fly has yet to be invented.
<snort>
Gaaaack!
I left without ordering.
Same here, for many reasons.
FMCDH(BITS)
Funny that this got posted when it did. My daughter in law and her Mom went to eat lunch at a Chinese restaurant yesterday when a roach crawled off her mother’s plate. The poor woman was upset the rest of the day, as she probably had already eaten some of the food before the roach made its appearance. Needless to say, they didn’t pay for their meal and will never eat there again.
What are you typing about? What does that have anything to do with the subject?
FMCDH(BITS)
the accumulated fat and dirt was dripping down from the exhaust system onto the griddle....
and when the giro guy leaned over to scoop up some meat (holding the pita bread in a sweaty hand) sweat from his forehead dropped onto the meat.
Ever stay at a motel with a coffeemaker in your room?
A friend got a temporary job cleaning rooms at the Red Lion.
Her trainer showed her how to wipe down the bathroom with a grungy rag, then used the same rag to wipe out the coffeepot!
I met some family members at a Joe’s Crab Shack for dinner. Our table was butted up to a rail. When a certain piece of music played, the waitstaff all did a little happy dance (I understand they do this whenever the kitchen is backed up.) Our waitress jumped up on the rail and did her little happy dance, scuffing and kicking with her nasty shoes right about at the level of our table.
We don’t eat at Joe’s Crab Shack any more.
In our company cafeteria at the grill I once saw a girl cooking burgers. When she was separating the stack of cheese she would lick her fingers for each one like some people turn pages of a magazine. After that whatever station she was working I would avoid.
I used to call it the Corporate Cafeteria diet. You’d walk through and if looking at the food choices didn’t kill your appetite, go back and walk through again and look at the people serving it.
There was a young girl working the sandwich station who had these sores on her lips. While she was making sandwiches, she’d occasionally wipe the side of her gloved hand along her mouth (I guess they must have itched or been oozing.)
I paid for my sandwich, then immediately threw it out.
My son was about 14 years old and we’d just finished hitting a few buckets of balls at the Stanford University driving range. We stopped at the golf course grill up on the hill. While waiting for our orders, a mouse fell off the overhead beams and hit the floor right next to our table. Dead as a doornail after the fall. Yuck.
We still laugh about it, though. And yes, we did eat our food that day.
Back in 1959, when I was 12, there was a cafe in Roswell NM named THE AMERICAN CAFE.
My dad took us to it one night after he got paid. we ordered hamburgers, he got chicken fried steak.
We went back to the restroom and saw the cook chopping up a piece of watermelon on the meat block and stuffing it in his mouth like there was no tomorrow. I got a bad feeling about the place.
When the food was served, we found the tomato rotten and took it of. The meat was over done, and my little sister, who loved hamburgers refused to eat it after one bite.
My dad’s chicken fried stead looked GREAT They even included an extra roach in the mix. We got up and left, he paid, the went out onto the public street and puked his guts out. Everyone must have thought he was drunk, BUT HE WAS NOT!
The next bad experience was when I stopped at a hamburger stand back in the 1970s, and the woman preparing the food suddenly put her hands over her nose, sneezed into her palms, wiped off on her apron, then went to handling the food. We left.
My wife, when a child in Atlanta, had an interesting experience. They went to a good hamburger place to get burgers. Her father got up to go to the restroom and got a glimpse of the cook pressing the meat into patties by placing the ball of meat under his arm pit, pressing down, then putting the meat on to cook. They immediately left.
A work companion went to a popular (with drunks) bar and grill over in Oklahoma. While drinking he ordered a hamburger.
A few minutes later he looked over and saw the cool with the spatula in one hand, and his other hand had his index finger run up his nose picking out burgers and flipping them away. He decided he didn’t need the burger.
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