Bellacino's review
First off, let me describe the day I had.
I left the house without my wallet, but I didn't notice until like 10:45. So I e-mailed my brother, who works a couple blocks away, and explained my case. He'd loan me the money, as I long as I got him something to eat as well.
Fine.
So I drive over, pick up the $20 from him, and park in a nearby garage. I place the order -- a large (18") chicken sandwich, a small (9") Reuben, and a large ice tea: $19.54! (Granted, the Reuben was good, but still....)
I'm screwed because now, I don't have enough money to get out of the garage. So I walk the 5-6 blocks back, drop off Chad's sandwich, and beg for parking money.
***
THE REVIEW:
Bellacino's becomes the latest in a long line of pet-peeve-of-mine restaurants: Fast food restaurants that ask you for your name, instead of giving you a number.
You know, maybe people do have self-esteem problems when they're known as "Number 47", but not me. I am not investing the amount of time at a fast-food restaurant that I would at a more sit-down restaurant, where I'd be willing to give them my name.
Usually, I'll give a fake name -- Roger, Ted, Mike -- but today, I was caught off guard and offered my real name.
So why did the cashier type in "BRATT"?
I left the house without my wallet, but I didn't notice until like 10:45. So I e-mailed my brother, who works a couple blocks away, and explained my case. He'd loan me the money, as I long as I got him something to eat as well.
Fine.
So I drive over, pick up the $20 from him, and park in a nearby garage. I place the order -- a large (18") chicken sandwich, a small (9") Reuben, and a large ice tea: $19.54! (Granted, the Reuben was good, but still....)
I'm screwed because now, I don't have enough money to get out of the garage. So I walk the 5-6 blocks back, drop off Chad's sandwich, and beg for parking money.
***
THE REVIEW:
Bellacino's becomes the latest in a long line of pet-peeve-of-mine restaurants: Fast food restaurants that ask you for your name, instead of giving you a number.
You know, maybe people do have self-esteem problems when they're known as "Number 47", but not me. I am not investing the amount of time at a fast-food restaurant that I would at a more sit-down restaurant, where I'd be willing to give them my name.
Usually, I'll give a fake name -- Roger, Ted, Mike -- but today, I was caught off guard and offered my real name.
So why did the cashier type in "BRATT"?