food fight (m)

Last night at the hotel in Florida.  T and Sam were fishing all day.  I was hoping to go out for dinner, but one look at my almost sun-stroked husband convinces me we should stay in.  We decide to watch movies and order room service.  The Girl with the Dragon Tatoo and Iron Lady.  A marathon for us given this is as many movies as we have seen in twelve months.  Two in one night.  Big doings.

I check the suite.  No room service menus.  I call down and ask what they have.  We settle on tomato basil soup and a salad for T and I order the "grilled chicken Caesar" with olive oil and vinegar on the side.

Thirty minutes later, the food arrives.  I'm already bored with The Iron Lady.  Meryl Streep was terrific; the movie is another story.

T signs for the food and I clear off the table in the dining area which has been the repository for iPads, cell phone chargers, etc.

The room service person leaves and I lift the covers off the food and....gasp!

Let me ask you a question.  What would you expect a "grilled chicken Caesar salad" to look like?  I think it's fair to say every one of you has had at least one at some point in your lives.  I bet it didn't look anything like what was on my plate.  Picture this:  a full head of Romaine lettuce, cleaved in half, vertically.  Now, put the inside edge of the lettuce face-down on the grill.  Next, flip it over.  Arrange the two halves so that they meet at a point on the bottom of their stems.  Put the chicken (which, by the way, was NOT grilled!) in the middle.  Seriously.

I call down to the restaurant.

Restaurant:  Good evening, Fiorello's (which burns my ass since there's nothing Italian about this place).
Me: Yes, hello, this is Room 639 calling.
Restaurant: (I swear I hear a big sigh.  No, I know I did.  They must remember me as the one who sent the undercooked shrimp back two nights before).  Yes?
Me: Yes, well, I just got a grilled chicken Caesar salad for room service and I don't want it.
Restaurant: Why not?
Me: It's bizarre.  That's why.  The chicken is not grilled.  The lettuce is grilled.  It's hot and it's limp.  By the way, how could you possibly wash the lettuce without separating it from the stem?
Restaurant: I don't know.
Me: Please come and get it and take it off the bill, okay?
Restaurant: What DO you want.
Me: Nothing.  I have fruit in the refrigerator.

Upon check-out the next day, I notice they didn't take the salad off the bill.

Again with the food fight.