It was crowded as hell on Wednesday night. They told us the wait
would only be 15 minutes
and usually I pin them down and say, "Do you mean 15 minutes or do you mean 30?"
Also, when they ask for a name, I always say "Fred," because when I say, "Bart"
they always ask. "Is that b-a-r-t?" and so far, only one guy has said, "Is that "f-r-e-d?"
I didn't want to get a ruckus started so early, so I didn't press
them on the time - big mistake.
After about 30 minutes of waiting, I went back to the greeter to re-introduce myself.
before I could say a word, she said, "Your table is ready now," preventing some spleen venting.
Then menu didn't say we were getting any extra, so we considered
an appetizer. We decided on
Bruschetta, which is roma tomatoes, fresh basil and extra-virgin olive oil and toasted ciabatta bread.
As soon as that hit the table, here they came with our salands and our breadsticks.
Had we known, we wouldn't have ordered the Bruschetta. Our table was getting full.
Salad boy showed up with a bathtub full of Italian salad. He asked
if we wanted him to grind
some romano cheese over our still-in-the-tub salad, and Mrs. Bart said, "Yes."
Salad boy starts grinding, and Mrs Bart was distracted for a second
so he keeps grinding.
After a while, even I could figure out something was wrong so I said, "That will do!"
The salad was OK, and I liked the breadsticks - then came the main meal.
Mrs. Bart was going to get the usual Fettucini Alfredo (probably)
but at the last minute
she decided to get the Steak Gargonzola on some kind of pasta. I wish I could do better
on the name, but the idiots who run olivegarden.com only have pieces of the menu up.
You'd think a giant corporation like that would actually have an updated web site
but nobody in this country wants to make money or do anything right.
It was the first time she's tasted beef since Mad Cow broke out in December.
I told her it was probably Italian beef, and therefore safe to eat..
I ended up with a pizza, it tasted like it came straight from
the freezer so I ate the toppings
but not the crust. The waiter gave me a funny look and I told him I was on Atkins.
In closing, we each had a half-glass (why do they do that) of
I imagine it would be toture to drink enough of that to get drunk, but it went pretty well
with her steak and pasta and my Atkins frozen pizza.
I know what you're asking - why did I write this review?
Tax boy says if bartcop.com manages to turn
a profit this year,
I will be able to write off expenses like that on my 2005 taxes.
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