Buffalo Wild Wings

I recently had an experience that I just can’t shake. I’m feeling guilty because I haven’t contacted authorities, which I believe to be necessary. I can’t stop wondering how many other times it’s happened.

Roaches.

So, long ago my family and I stopped going to b dub dubs (Buffalo Wild Wings). Time and time again we would go, and have to wait too long for our food to come out. Even longer to wrap it all up, get our checks, boxes, and get outta there. It wasn’t ever just one waitress and it wasn’t a 3 days before Christmas lunch rush (my goodness, the people!) Despite that, we were restless last week and couldn’t agree on anything. Instead of the usual “I don’t know where to go” and “I’m not picky, I’ll eat anywhere” back and forth we were both spitting out suggestions and no-ing for one reason or another. We somehow settled on B dub dubs and that’s when all hell broke loose.

It was so jarring we just went straight home and ate lunch in our own clean kitchen. We needed comfort.

We walk in. It’s early in the lunch day, so the usual bevy of jersey-clad college freshman girls stood behind the to-go counter waiting for a table assignment. I always hated that part most. When you’re walking in the door and you have to approach the front as they stare at you, your family, silently judging.

As we walk in, my third grader picks up one of those little paper crowns and pops it on his head. I grab one for the little two and a half year old. As I grab it and am progressing to the hostess table a brown roach falls from the inside of the crown. I watch in horror as it scurries back toward the divider and I look up at the waitresses to see if they just witnessed what happened. If they saw, they didn’t say anything. I couldn’t mention it to my fiancé in the walk between the hostess counter and our table. The word “roach” really carries, ya know?

We get seated and I bolt to the bathroom for unrelated reasons. When I get back, I quickly retell the story as we order our drinks (two tall beers, STAT!).  No sooner do I finish whispering the story and Jason (probably looking around to make sure his seat is roach-free)  looks down and sees a roach on the seat about 3” from where he sits. He alerts me to it and it was just sitting there! In daylight! Next to a two and a half year old toddler. This thing is NOT afraid of humans. We are seated in the middle of the restaurant. I could almost understand the front as a stretch that they came in the door – it’s a stretch, I know. I could even get seeing on in a booth by the kitchen, I’m a realist, I know restaurants get roaches. But flagrantly in the middle of the restaurant? No.

We immediately left. On the way out, Jason tells the waitress that we saw a couple roaches. I mean, let’s be honest here – if we see them… the servers know. They know. Her response was “I’m sorry about that sir”.

I just don’t know who to tell.

 

 

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