P.F. Chang’s at Northpark

Nobody really needs to read about P.F. Chang’s. It’s not necessary, exciting, or relevant to anything considered new to anyone. This being a massive restaurant chain usually translates into a huge waste of writing time. I waited tables forever and the Northpark location of P.F. Chang’s makes my head spin. The service was astonishingly horrible four out of four times in a row. Astonishing is not an exaggeration. Astonishing is what this is. The absolute worst service a person could get over and over and over and over again.

P.F. Chang’s at Northpark has the worst trained staff of any restaurant I’ve been to in my entire life. There isn’t a close second. This restaurant is a full blown service disaster. The person running P.F. Chang’s at this location needs an assistant general manager fast— or a new job. There’s no way the servers should take the entire rap for this dining room catastrophe. Management is in charge of hiring experienced servers, as well as making sure the trainers are training new servers correctly. It’s crazy that anyone would let these people have their own section. Insanity. Management should be embarrassed by the front of the house. There’s no way corporate has a clue as to what’s going on at this location.

As we sat at a round booth by the kitchen, a server turned the corner and fell with a full tray of plates. This fall was a total wipe out. Everyone in the dining room felt sorry for her. The first thing she did after standing up was apologize to us and ask if we were OK. We were totally fine. This scene was a sad moment for her. Nobody likes to fall. About one minute later a guy peeked around the corner and asked if we had broken glass in our hair. He was probably being a jokester. If I’d known what was ahead I would have politely asked him to choke on his joke.

Our server spoke to us as though we were all having lunch together. “What would we like to drink?” Then he said, “Are there any appetizers for us to start out with?” Wow. “How about we take a few minutes to decide.” This is completely freaky. It was weird when he said he’d be back faster than two shakes of a lamb’s tail. Who says this in 2012? Does this mean lambs shake their tails faster than any other animal? Lambs aren’t known for anything except making a baaaahhaaaaahaaaa sound that kids like. A lamb’s tail is all fluffy and thick. How can a lamb have room to shake its tail super fast? Future sweaters are all over a lamb’s tail.

Lambs don’t have anything to shake their tails about. Someone is about to shave each lamb’s body, steal their fluffy wool, and take it to a factory. Maybe the lambs were judged after their fluffy wool was removed. All tails would have been shaved. Maybe they had major razor burn and began quickly shaking their tails to feel better. Kind of like blowing on a burn. Why wouldn’t the saying be, “I’ll be back faster than two shakes of a dog’s tail.” Dogs are known for wagging fast. Dogs are always excited about a bone or chasing something. Dogs even chase their own tails. People that say this need to mean it. If you aren’t going to be back faster than two shakes of a lamb’s tail, then don’t make this kind of claim. Our server was back in 142 shakes of a snail’s tail.

The manager walked past our table three times as if she was performing a manager’s call of duty in the dining room. She never noticed us staring at our appetizers like animals waiting to pounce on prey. I decided to gross my husband out and eat with my fingers. He’s a really calm guy that doesn’t like when I write negative reviews about restaurants. I’ve never seen him pull out his iPhone timer to see exactly how much longer our server would suck. He could not believe this kind of shady service was happening for the fourth time in a row. For him to freak out is major. He just sat there with a red face and watched me eat like a cave girl.

Our server couldn’t possibly have known we didn’t have drinks or utensils because he hadn’t been to our table in close to fifteen minutes. Eating with my fingers isn’t the end of the world. People that tear the meat off the bone while eating wings have lots of stuff on their fingers. Maybe I didn’t want to eat dynamite shrimp with my fingers. Maybe I worked with fertilizer in the yard all morning. Maybe putting my fingers in my mouth is not an option right now.

After eating my dynamite shrimp appetizer with my fingers, I could not believe our server remained missing. In case anyone is wondering, this appetizer has a little kick, hence dynamite. Water is something a person needs. Not one sip of anything happened during the entire appetizer. The children at our table were trying to give me their drinks because I was pitiful. I did the look around. I never do the look around. It is something I don’t do. I was thirsty past the level of following the rules. It hurt.

Our guy finally made it over to drop off soup and salads. It just felt right to tell him I used my fingers to eat the dynamite shrimp appetizer and hadn’t had anything to drink for fifteen minutes, but did manage to use my bev nap as a napkin. He didn’t say a word. He came back with rolled up silver and a water pitcher. Thanks. Thanks a lot.

The manager managed to manage herself over to our table just as lunch had ended. “How was everything today?” I told her we really are kind of speechless. After four trips to hell, what does a person say? How about: What is going on with the training around here? It’s an absolute joke. The P.F. Chang’s at Northpark is running a comedy club and the servers are the main act. Four out of four servers that waited on us had the experience of first time, first day, first shift servers. This is outrageous. Forget about Snuffer’s service. This place makes Snuffer’s feel like Jean Georges. Holy freaking moly.

Let’s talk about this guy. We need to be clear on his niceness. Nice is great, but sometimes it’s best to be nice in another line of work. Nice isn’t getting anyone anywhere in a restaurant if you can’t get our drinks within ten minutes. We don’t need a disappearing waiter when we are thirsty, in need of silver, napkins, the rice we asked for, the edamame you forgot, and the rest that’s been repressed. Show me one place that takes 25 minutes to deliver edamame during lunch service.

As if eating with my fingers didn’t suck enough, we had to wait and wait and wait and wait and wait and wait and wait for our check. What kind of server knows you ate with your fingers in the beginning and doesn’t turn things around right away? I’d let my other tables walk out before I’d suck at our table again. Unbelievable.

Our check arrived completely comped. Zero due for this lunch. If a person has to use their fingers as a fork while being painfully thirsty, you’d better have your comp card ready to roll. This is the worst trained staff in the history of trying to eat out without growling. Four out of four is a reliable source for this one. These guys are several levels below the service at Townhouse Kitchen. A plummeted mess less than Chuy’s. To have a corporate restaurant suck this bad is incredible.

FIVE: High 5!

FOUR: Please & Thank You

THREE: Yada

TWO: Double Wow

ONE: Wow + Ouch = Wouch

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IMPORTANT DISCLOSURE: Our entire meal was comped. If our entire meal had not been comped then my husband would have paid for our entire meal. If I liked eating with my fingers, then I would have said I liked eating with my fingers. My opinion is mine and you can’t have it. END OF THIS IMPORTANT BLOGGER DISCLOSURE INFORMING EVERYONE P.F. CHANG’S COMPED OUR MEAL .

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