Thursday, July 28, 2011

Fast. Fresh. Italian.

Yesterday- the kids and I stopped at Fazolis for lunch.  The main reason was because we were out running errands and it got to be lunch time and we were starving.  The other reason is because I've been in a horrible funk and I failed to plan the day out well.  A good mom would have packed a picnic or simply fed them before leaving the house.  But this is me and my world feels off kilter and 'together' is not a word I would even begin to use to describe myself right now.  So we were hungry and not at home- we stopped the car.

So we sit down with our plates of pasta and dripping with butter breadsticks and eat.

Then Allyson finds a hair in her pasta.  I'm not one that gets all freaked out about that.  I guess it happens.  Just take it to the counter and get a fresh plate of food- problem solved.

So I take it up to the counter where the manager is and I whisper (as to not gross out any other customers) that there is a hair in her food. 

He takes the bowl from me and looks down in it.  Then he says he's not going to argue with me, but he doesn't see it.  What else did she want instead. 

Customer service at its finest.

I explained she'd really just like the same thing............hold the hair.  He said he'd bring it right out.

When he arrives at our table, he sets the meal in front of Allyson.  Then he says "You know, it could have come from anywhere.  All our girls wear hats, and I suppose it could have been mine but it was too long."

It's no wonder this man progressed to manager of this fine establishment.  His people skills are amazing.  No time at all he'll probably be transfered to the corporate office.  What an extraordinary man he was!

He's lucky I wasn't in the mood I'm in today.  He'd a' probably been wearin' that pasta.

*Fazolis did not sponsor this post nor did they pay me for my opinions.  They are all my own.  I chose to talk about this only because I felt like it.  You are welcome.

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