Forced Red Lobster Lunching: It’s Just Not Right

IMG_9008While Red Lobster has frightened earthlings since the beginning of existence, I proved this to be a massive myth today when I did not refuse to have lunch at Red Lobster. Was I shaking after finding out other people picked Red Lobster for lunch? Yes. Did my brain feel swift circles of brain confusion? Of course. I could have escaped having lunch at Red Lobster, which can only mean I’m none other than… not a Red Lobster snob.

Look, the first thing people think about when they think about Red Lobster is the cheddar biscuits. When I realized I was trapped, there was only one thing to dream about… cheddar biscuits. If you are Red Lobster and your cheddar biscuits suck, then close those kitchen doors and fast.

There was no cheddar in our cheddar biscuits at Red Lobster. Now what am I supposed to do? I’m a Red Lobster survivor at this point. I just want to make it out of this place without ordering frozen snow crab legs. That’s all. For all the haters, relax from hating. I have proof there were microscopic amounts of cheddar in the Red Lobster cheddar biscuits today. It’s all because my classy husband said, “I can’t believe we are at Red Lobster and the cheddar biscuits have no…cheddar.” He doesn’t lie. He never does anything wrong. I’m still wondering how we are married because he is so perfect. Like a classy perfectionist who decided to marry me, which is actually quite exciting.

About ten minutes after being seated this girl walks up and says, “I’m not Larry, but I’d like to take your drink order after telling you about all the things I love on the special menu.” AKA: I’d like to tell you about the expensive stuff. Good for her. Upselling is fine, but don’t try to take our drink, app, and entrée order at the same time. Just stop. Stop. If we weren’t at Red Lobster this should be against the law. No server will ever succeed in the entire-order-at-once quest until cancer kills me. I’ll never let it happen. There’s no turning and burning around here, especially at Red freaking Lobster.

Larry soon showed up with food and drinks for three tables combined, which means he is none other than a consolidator waiter. This was the greatest sight in the history of tray-sights because it instantly meant that even though Larry was in the weeds, he maintained his consolidator status. Triple seat any good server and that’s cool. If the server knows how to consolidate the orders without running around for each table then it all works out. It’s kind of like getting drinks, running through the kitchen to grab a bowl of soup and two salads instead of delivering everything in different trips. Larry is the bomb. It’s not Larry’s fault the food at Red Lobster sucks. It is probably Larry’s problem he works at Red Lobster.

It was so gross when my smart husband fell for the menu trick and ordered after looking at the picture. Don’t look at the picture. Um, we are at a massive fail of a chain restaurant and you are betting on your entrée to arrive looking like the picture? No. Just no.

Every pasta sauce frightened me because 1) we were at Red Lobster and 2) they were all the same— garlic creamy parm of some kind. No. Just no. And please know there is an Olive Garden next door. There is and that’s all I’m saying about that. We had a choice on scariness. On the up and up, yes, I’m writing about Red Lobster and I usually laugh at people who do this sort of thing. Today is different.






Maybe I am a food snob after all. Wouch.









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