Never-Ending Pasta Pass Lover Responds to Criticism

So many of you had a such a reaction to Doreen’s post yesterday about the Never-Ending Pasta Pass that I have asked her to respond. Thank you, Doreen! You are truly something.  -BW

Hey, everybody, it’s me, Doreen again. I’m the one who wrote yesterday’s post about how excited I am for the Never-Ending Pasta Pass and I must say that so many of you are rude with a capitol R.

rude

rude

I was so happy when Bitchy Waiter reached out to me to write about it, but I did not expect the negative feedback. I can’t help it if I love Olive Garden. If they are going to practically give away their pasta for free, I am going to take advantage of it. It took me over an hour to get through on their website and even after I added the Pasta Pass to my cart and paid for it, I didn’t get a confirmation email for almost five hours. Those were the longest five hours I have ever spent in my entire life, with the exception of the time the escalator at the mall got stuck halfway up and I just had to stand there until they figured out to turn it on again. I still haven’t gotten my Pasta Pass and, yes, I do hope it’s made of metal and yes I did crochet a holder for it, so for those of you don’t like it, you can just F off, thank you very much.

Yesterday, I saw that a lot of people were putting their Pasta Pass on eBay and getting almost twice as much as they paid for it and I must admit that greed got the best of me and I put mine up for auction as well. Since I didn’t have the card yet, I scanned a picture of my email confirmation for proof that it was on the way. Within a couple of hours, I had seven bids and it was up to $129.99. I felt like a real entrepreneur. I called in sick to work yesterday so I could watch my auction. I figured that Hobby Lobby could do without me for one day and I was already going to make more money on my Pasta Pass than I would for eight hours of work. I have never called in sick before and I felt bad about it because yesterday was the day we had scheduled to rotate the yarn section, but I felt like the eBay auction was more important. By 4:00, the Pasta Pass was up to $175!! Yes, I was going to miss out on all that delicious pasta and maybe not get to see Elliot the manager, but the bidding was intoxicating and I got sucked into it. Then, at about 5:00, I got an email from a woman named Tara Gray who is in charge of all the Olive Gardens.  It said, “We’re working with eBay to notify both buyers and sellers that the Never Ending Pasta Passes are non-transferable and may not be resold. To ensure that everyone who has purchased a pass can enjoy Never Ending Pasta Bowl, we encourage guests who have questions about their pass to contact our Guest Relations team by phone or on social media.” That email took the wind right out of me and I felt like I was on a roller coaster ride of emotion. First I was excited about eating at Olive Garden every day for 49 days and then I was excited about maybe making $100 off of the card instead and then I was devastated to see that I would not be making money after all and I was out of a day at work because of my greed. I canceled the auction and now I am trying to get excited about having the Pasta Pass as all mine again.

It should be here in a couple of days and I will embrace it as mine. I hope that Olive Garden can forgive me for even thinking about selling it to someone else. That was foolish of me and I know that now. This Never-Ending Pasta Pass will change my life for 49 days and when November 9th rolls around and I am eating my last bowl of Alfredo pasta, I will be sad to know that I will not use my card anymore. I will probably save it or frame it and always look back at those days as the most special time of my life. There are only 1,000 of us in the whole entire galaxy who have been honored with this blessing and I was going to throw it away for an extra $79. How foolish of me.

And for those of you who called me a fat ass or a cheap bitch, I don’t care what you think about me. I love my size and my cats love me and that’s all that matters. As far as tipping goes, I still don’t know why I would leave a tip if I don’t even get a bill. Does that even make sense to anyone? Am I the only one around here who has any brains at all? If I order a dessert, I will tip on that, okay? An order of the chocolate mousse cake is about $7.00 and 10% of that would only be seventy cents, but since all of you think I am so effing cheap, I will round it up to a dollar. So get off my back about that. The only think I want on my back is my fat.

Hopefully after I get my Pasta Pass, Bitchy Waiter will let me write again. If not, I understand. This is is his blog, not mine. I might just start my own though and call it “49 Days of Heaven” and it will be about each of my meals at Olive Garden.

Thank you for reading. And to Olive Garden: I love you and I’m sorry I tried to sell my Pasta Pass.

How Desperate is Olive Garden? This Desperate:

Eat it up, bitches.

Eat it up, bitches.

With the news of Olive Garden’s Never-Ending Pasta Pass, I asked a true Olive Garden  fanatic to explain how she feels about the whole thing. Ladies and gentleman, please welcome Doreen to The Bitchy Waiter Blog.   -BW

Hey everyone, my name is Doreen and thank you to the Bitchy Waiter for letting me write today’s post. Oh my God, I am so excited. I love Olive Garden so much and my favorite thing of all time is when the Never-Ending Pasta Bowl starts. Seriously, as soon as I find out the date that it’s going to start, I set a countdown on my smart phone and LITERALLY watch the seconds tick away until I can go down to Olive Garden and cram food into my face until it’s coming out of my ears. I love their food so much, because it tastes just like what my Mom used to make when I was little and she would take Chef Boyardee Ravioli and “spice it up.” Anyways, every night when I go to bed, I pray for Never-Ending Pasta Bowl to start soon, but imagine how excited I was yesterday to see that now they have a Never-Ending Pasta Pass. For real, I am so excited, that I almost just sharted my pants. Okay, I didn’t almost shart them.

Let me explain: for $100, I can buy a pass that will let me eat all the pasta I want every single day from September 22 to November 9. That is 49 glorious days! And not only do I get to eat pasta, I can get all the salad and breadsticks I want plus unlimited Cokes! And get this: if I take any of my friends with me, they get free Cokes too. Did I just die and wake up in Alfredo Sauce Heaven?? I think I did! I think this Pasta Pass is going to be as close as I ever come to making that dream I had a few years ago come true: the one where I was sitting on the toilet and eating Chicken and Shrimp Carbonara while I was pooping. It was like the circle of life; in one end and out the other.

If I go When I go every single day, that will mean that I am only paying $2.04 a meal, but that’s if I just went once a day. I am going to go for lunch and dinner so I will only be paying $1.02 every time I eat! My favorite manager Elliot at the Mechanicsburg, PA location will get to see me every day. (Truth be told, I have a little bit of a crush on him and I would pay way more than $1.02 to have five seconds alone with him in that back booth over by the bathroom! Good God, I wish that Elliot would stuff my chicken marsala.)

I think I will take a friend with me every time I go so she can get a free Coke and then I will just share my pasta with her. She can order a small salad and then just eat off of my plate. What’s the waitress gonna do, police me? And I’m also going to ask for another big serving after my usual three so I can get it in a doggy bag to have for breakfast the next day. Man, Olive Garden is so going to regret giving me the Pasta Pass. Another great thing about this, is that I won’t have to tip! If I get my Pasta Pass in the mail for a $100, I won’t pay a tip on that because a waiter didn’t give it to me. And when I use the Pasta Pass at the restaurant, I won’t get a bill, so I won’t have to leave a tip because 10% of zero is zero. Heck, since my bill is zero, I would go crazy and tip 15% instead, but that’s still zero, so sorry, Olive Garden waitress. No tip from me.

I bought my Pasta Pass yesterday. There were only 1000 available and it took me forever to get it because the darn website was so slow. I guess everybody wanted a Pasta Pass, but I finally made it through and it’s on the way! I wonder what it’s going to look like! I hope it doesn’t look like a regular OG gift card. I hope it’s black and made of metal. I want to feel important when I flash my card to Elliott. Maybe he’ll think I’m a VIP and serve me himself. (Good God, I’d love to get a taste of his spaghetti and meat balls!) When I get my card in the mail, it will be the best day of my life. I cannot wait until September 22 and I will be there as soon as they open. I will have my Pasta Pass hanging around my neck in the specially crocheted holder I made last night so they will know to treat me like the queen of pasta that I am. I dread November 10th when I have to start paying for my Olive Garden food again. This $100 will be the best money I have ever spent. It really is a dream come true. Well, almost a dream come true. I still want to do that whole circle of life thing with the Chicken and Shrimp Carbonara while sitting on the toilet. Maybe on November 9th!

Thanks, Olive Garden!! I love you!

Is This the Worst Thing To Ever Happen at Applebee’s?

Applebee's, here we come!

Applebee’s, here we come!

In my continuing quest to troll the Facebook pages of major chain restaurants in search of nuggets to write about, today I was on the Applebee’s page where I struck gold. Please observe this Facebook post about a man who wants to hook his friends up with an Applebee’s wedding.

 

 

 


 
Through my ever-intensive sleuthing, I was able to find the wedding announcement of this lucky couple and I would like to present it to you below:

 

Jim and Mary Love Each Other But They Might Love Applebee’s More

Jim Smith is proud to announce the gathering of two wonderful people who share a love for each other as well as a love for chain restaurants. Bob and Mary were just two lonely adults until they came together as one over a plate of double-glazed baby back ribs at their local Applebee’s. (The one on Highway 5, not the one at the mall, because everybody knows that only skanks and hos go to that one, duh.) Won’t you join Bob and Mary as they become one and promise to love, honor, obey and always order off the 2 for $20 menu until death do them part? Their love is sweeter than an Apple Chimicheesecake and their passion burns hotter than a Sizzling Double Barrel Whiskey Sirloin.

It seems like it was just a few short days ago that Bob and Mary first met online in the “I ♥ Applebee’s Google Group” and decided to take the plunge of actually meeting face to face. Actually, it was just a few short days ago. Although they were a little bit nervous about talking instead of typing, as soon as their server Odetta showed up to their table and told them she would be taking care of them that night, things fell into place. They began with an order of Green Bean Crispers and their hearts inched closer to one another when they realized they both wanted to skip the zesty horseradish sauce and get an extra creamy BBQ ranch dipping sauce instead. Even Odetta knew she was witnessing something magical happen. By the time Bob and Mary had licked the ramekin clean, they knew they were meant to be together. They were so head over heels in love that they ordered another starter and shared the Queso Blanco, feeding each other the creamy blend of cheese, cilantro and roasted poblanos. By the time they split a plate of ribs, they were engaged.

Please join them on Saturday February 14th, 2015 at 8:00 PM at the Applebee’s on Highway 5 for the grandest and most exquisite wedding ceremony ever known to mankind. Bob and Mary have decided to marry on Valentine’s Day because it’s the most romantic day of the year. Plus, it falls on a Saturday and we know how much fun it is to be in an Applebee’s on a Saturday night. They have made a reservation for 125 people and are requesting a booth near the window. Worst case scenario, they will have to push some tables together. The ceremony will begin promptly at 8:00 and the reception will immediately follow at 8:05. If you cannot be there on time, do not worry about it. They will just hold your spot at the table and tell Odetta that you are on your way. If you decide to not join this special event, don’t bother letting anyone know. Odetta won’t mind if there is a reservation for 125 and the only people who show up are Bob, Mary, their parents (depending on the parole boards…) and Jim. The wedding party will be providing five or six appetizers (mozzarella sticks, steak quesadilla towers, sliders, etc…), but any extra food or alcoholic beverage will be the responsibility of the guests. Separate checks.

Presiding over the ceremony will be Bernie Fishass, the general manager of the Applebee’s Highway 5, who was recently ordained online. Best man will be Jim while Odetta will be serving as the maid of honor, head waitress and busser. Mary will be upholding the tradition of incorporating something old, something new, something borrowed and something blue into the ceremony. A piece of blue cheese, found under the booth where they met, will be serving as the something old, something borrowed and something blue. For the something new, Bernie is going to open a new can of queso.

The bride will be wearing a gown that she designed herself modeled after the iconic Applebee’s uniform and she will be holding a bouquet of apples. The groom will be wearing an apron. Following the reception, the newlyweds plan to honeymoon at the Outback Steakhouse on the other side of town because they both dream of someday visiting Australia, but for now, Outback will have to do, mate.

Applebee’s is a conduit for true love.

Dreams really do come true.

Dreams really do come true.

The Most Awful Thing Ever To Happen At Chili’s

"My steak fajitas were terrible!!!"

“My steak fajitas were terrible!!!”

Dear Becky,

Thank you for your Facebook post about your recent visit to Chili’s. I am so sorry you had a less than perfect time while dining at your local Chili’s.

 


We have certainly missed having you come in and I have been wondering where you were ever since your last visit in May of 2004. If I remember correctly, you were here to celebrate your son’s high school graduation, right? Those were the days, weren’t they, Becky? When your son was still a hopeful young man with a bright future ahead of him rather than the washed up drug-dealing drifter that he is now? And when the mozzarella sticks only cost $4.99 and you were still just a size 18? Ahh, those really were the days, weren’t they?

You see, Becky, times change and so do prices. Back in 2004, maybe the prices were a little but lower and sure, maybe we cared a little but more, but it’s 2014 now and we no longer give a shit. Actually, we ran out of fucks to give in about 2008 or 2009. If you wanted some delicious steak fajitas, why would you go to to Chili’s in the first place? Isn’t there some legitimate Mexican restaurant in your area that uses fresh ingredients instead of guacamole that comes out of bag that arrives to us frozen? Our “steak” is actually called Beeef!®. It is 10% top-grade beef with 40% medium-grade beef parts, 45% fillers, 4% man-made materials and 1% other. Quite frankly, I’m surprised you only thought “IT WAS TERRIBLE!!!!” In my experience, I have always found our steak fajitas to be “FUCKING DISGUSTING!!!!”

Things have certainly changed in the ten years since you have dragged your sorry ass to the fucking Chili’s, haven’t they, Becky? I am sorry to hear that we have lost you as a customer because your once a decade visit to our restaurant was really the only thing that kept us going, both economically and emotionally. It’s customers like you that we depend on. We have thousands of people who come to eat in our restaurant on a weekly basis, but it’s the ones who come once every ten years that we really will miss having. Ordinarily, this would be the point where I offer you a gift card so that you can come back and we will attempt to win you over by giving you a free order of Jumbo Soft Pretzels or Skillet Peanut Butter Cookie, but since you have already told us that we have lost you as a customer, I won’t bother. I will accept that we won’t see you again in 2024 and that’s a real shame, Becky. We had big plans for your 2024 visit. Big plans, indeed. I won’t tell you everything we were thinking of doing on the off chance that you may change your mind in the next ten years and be willing to give us one more chance. Let’s just say that your 2024 visit involved balloons, high school reunions and a Molten Chocolate Cake jacuzzi. (Darn it, I fear I’ve said too much!)

Thank you for taking the time to express your feelings on our Facebook page. As you can see with this letter, we take each and every complaint to heart because at Chili’s we strive for mediocrity. In all honesty, in 2004, we were striving for excellence. By 2024, we will probably be striving for relevance. Please accept my most sincere apology for not living up to your standards. I would say we will try harder, but that would be a lie. Good luck with your other dining options.

Sincerely,
The Guy in Charge of the Chili’s Facebook Page

p.s. Here is a screenshot of Becky’s post because I’m pretty sure that her original comment that is embedded above will soon be deleted…

Poor Becky.

Poor Becky.

The Saddest Woman Ever at Olive Garden

"I'm all alone!"

“I’m all alone!”

Since I have no life, I spend most of my free time Googling things about waiters and Facebook stalking chain restaurants to see what I can write about. I’m not proud of this fact, but it happens. As I was scrolling through the Facebook page of Olive Garden, I came across the saddest most depressing Facebook post ever and it made me want to write about it. I have posted it below, but it will probably get deleted by the end of the day. The post comes from someone named Roma who writes:

I love Olive Garden BUT I just got an e-mail for $4 off 2 two adult entrees In my opinion that STINKS!! and feel it is discriminatory to singles. I often eat out alone, why shouldn’t I get pentalized for being alone??
 

 

Poor, poor Roma. Destined to live her life alone eating out at Olive Garden and being denied the privilege of getting discount. As if being single isn’t bad enough, Roma has to be slapped in the face by Olive Garden to remind her that she is ALONE! Olive Garden responded to unescorted Roma explaining that she can use the discount for one meal and get $2 off, but Party For One Roma told them that she was denied!

I wasn’t there, but I imagine it went like this:

Waiter: Welcome to Olive Garden! My name is Skip and I will be your server this evening. Can I start you off with a something to drink? Or perhaps you would like some classic calamari or spicy shrimp scampi to nibble on while you wait for your husband, boyfriend, life partner, significant other or soulmate.

Roma: Oh, I’ll just have water with extra lemon to drink, but I’m not waiting on anyone. It’s just me tonight.

Waiter: What?

Roma: I don’t have a boyfriend, so I’m eating all alone. Unless you let cats eat in the restaurant. Do you? Because Mr. Mittens is in the car!

Waiter: Oh, you’re alone. Did you tell the hostess that when she seated you here because usually we put the single people in the back of the restaurant by the bathrooms.

Roma: No, I didn’t. And I asked to sit here. Is that alright?

Waiter: Ummm, lemme go talk to my manager.

(The waiter rushes off to the sidestand and whispers something into the ear of another server who then looks at Roma and begins to laugh. The waiter returns to the table.)

Waiter: Yeah, so, you’re alone…do you mean that you aren’t even dating anyone? Because here at Olive Garden, you’re family, but one person does not a family make.

Roma: Well, Mr. Mittens is like my family, does that count?

Waiter: No, that’s sad. Lemme just get your order right quick so we can get you out of here as quickly as possible before anyone sees that you eat all alone. What would you like?

Roma: Well, I have this email coupon for four dollars off of two entrees so I thought that I could use it for just me and get two dollars off instead. Is that alright?

Waiter: No, that coupon is only for people who have managed to form some kind of relationship with another living being other than a cat. You can’t use that.

Roma: I don’t understand. I’m not asking for four dollars off of two entrees, just two dollars off of one. What’s wrong with that?

Waiter: What’s wrong with that? Well, it’s just sad, that’s all. You’re all alone-

Roma: I have Mr. Mittens!

Waiter: -and you come marching in here and want to sit at a table right in the front of the restaurant where everyone can see you detached and forsaken and you want a discount too? It’s just pathetic and I feel sorry for you. Why don’t you let me order your food to go? You can go sit in your car with your cat and I’ll bring it out as soon as it’s ready.

Roma: Well, can I get two dollars off?

Waiter: No.

Roma: This is awful! I’m going to go home to my computer and go to the Olive Garden Facebook page and complain about this. It’s discriminatory to deny me the privilege of getting a discount just because I choose to be single!

Waiter: Honey, everybody knows you didn’t choose to be single and if you are going to spend any time on a computer, I would suggest using that time to create an account on Match.com. Word of advice though: be really mindful about your profile picture; maybe use a filter or something. And don’t mention Mr. Mittens.

Roma: I have never been so insulted in all my life! I am never coming back here again!

Waiter: Okay, thanks for coming in. Keep in mind that our Never Ending Pasta Bowl promotion will be starting again soon, so keep an eye out for an email reminder about that. Hopefully you’ll have a boyfriend by then. Buh bye.

 

UPDATE: It appears that the Facebook comment was deleted less than 12 hours after I posted this blog.  -BW

An Open Letter to the Kid On a Scooter

Better here than in a restaurant.

Better here than in a restaurant.

Dear Kid on the Scooter,

What the hell is your problem? I saw you come into the restaurant with your mom, grandma and sister and you were riding a fucking scooter. In a restaurant? Really? I saw you riding it on the sidewalk before you came in, but I never thought you would ride it all the way through the restaurant as you and your family picked out a table like you were in a fucking orchard picking out apples.  “Oh, look at that one, it’s so nice! Oooh, but what about that one?” You rode it from Table 1 all the way to Table 16 and then back again. With the wind blowing through your hair, you looked like you thought you were filming Easy fucking Rider. And then your mom wanted a table on the patio. I saw your eyes light up when you saw all that open concrete out there with just nine tables that you would have to dodge though. I could tell you were looking forward to taking that damn scooter on a ride from Table 21 to Table 29, but your mom was too damn impatient to wait for me to reset that four top that had just left so she decided to sit inside instead. I bet your heart fell through your chest and into a soggy pile of sadness when you realized you would have to go back inside with your scooter. Inside you rode, right back to Table 16 where your sister crawled into the booth and put her grubby little hands on every piece of silverware and every glass at the table.

GET OFF YOUR FUCKING SCOOTER!

So then I had to make room for the fucking thing as if serving two kids wasn’t enough of a pain in my ass, now I have to practically valet park a goddamn scooter for a ten-year old. After I moved the high chairs over and made room for the thing, I went to give you your menus and then I went outside to clean the four top. As soon as I was done setting it up, your mom decided she does want to sit outside “now that there’s a table ready.” Off you go to get your wheels so you can ride the whole six feet to your next table. I grabbed the silverware and glasses from Table 16 since your sister had already left her DNA on all of it and carried it out to the patio to swap them with the clean ones. And what did you do, kid? You stood in the doorway, straddling your scooter the same way your whore mother straddled a stranger she met on the 7 train to conceive you between the Queensborough Plaza and 46th Street stops. I had to step around you three. Damn. Times.

GET OFF YOUR FUCKING SCOOTER!

After a couple of spins around the patio, as I silently prayed for a rock or stick to catch your wheel and send you to the pavement, you finally sat down. Your mom was in a hurry all of a sudden just like she was ten years ago when she was trying to get her panties back on before she missed her subway stop. She chose your food for you because she’s so good at making decisions. “Yeah, ride the scooter in the restaurant. Yeah, let your hair grow down past your shoulders so no one can tell if you’re a boy or a girl. Yeah, cum inside me, man on the 7 train, so we can make a baby together.” Your mom’s a real peach pit, I tell ya.

I got your food. I cleared your table. I gave you your check. Your mom left me about 12%. And then you left. Onto your scooter you hopped, your sister running behind you as you rode through the restaurant while other customers gave your mom a look of “what the fuck is wrong with you?” Your mom meandered out, pulling a wedgie out of her ass, except don’t you have to wear underwear to have a wedgie? You zoomed through the exit and out onto the busy sidewalk and hopefully out onto the busier street.

GET OFF YOUR FUCKING SCOOTER!

Mustard and mayo,
The Bitchy Waiter

Eat it, asshole.

Eat it, asshole.