Why Do I Even Bother?

My usual spiel when people order goes something like this:

“We use hickory wood to smoke our meat so it turns all the white meat, such as the ribs and chicken, pink. Please don’t think it is undercooked, it’s just pink.”

I say this about 20 times a night. It is written on the menu.

Tonight was no different. Towards the end of the evening, I gave a woman my little song and dance and damned if she didn’t call me over in a panic to tell me the chicken was raw.

I asked, “Remember I told you we used hickory wood to smoke our meat and it turns the chicken pink?”

She said, “Yes, but this is pink. It’s raw and I can’t eat raw chicken.”

Well, fuck me. I can’t argue with that. I felt like ripping pieces of the chicken off her plate and stuffing them in my mouth, John Belushi style, but I’m not ready to lose my job this week.

Advertisements

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s

%d bloggers like this: