slim chikn
The good, the bad, the ugly.
The lines have been insane since it opened, so we waited to try the new Slim Chickens until today. (13 Jan 2020, 1214hrs)
The cute guy ordered a Classic Meal and I ordered a Bacon Ranch Chicken Sandwich Meal.
$18.79. Spendy for a fast food lunch – about five bucks more than eating at McD’s or our usual order at Subway. I pay at the counter, they give me a number and two glasses, and we go into the dining room to look for a seat.
The cute guy spotted the row of tiny tables for two. I could not see them, as they were hidden behind the bar-high tables for six. These tables for two are tiny, but we sit down and stand up the number. On the table is a cardboard corral, holding a roll of paper towels and a ketchup bottle. The table is a bit wobbly, so the corral is needed to keep the paper towels on the table. The cute guy raises his eyebrows at the roll of paper towels instead of a napkin dispenser. We laughed, assuming the need for a roll of paper towels was a good sign and promised us amazingly juicy fried chicken.
We filled our sodas from the dispenser and the server brought out our meals. The tabletop was completely filled when she set down the meal bowls. My sandwich was dry. I had expected it to be juicy chicken, dripping with gooey ranch dressing. It needed salt. The cute guy also needed salt for his meal, so he went up to get some from the rack. He brought back packets of pepper. There was no salt in the holder marked “S & P,” just pepper.
“I’ll go to the counter and ask,” I said as I stood up. The table rocked, and my cup hit the floor. It exploded. It had a “spillproof” lid on the cup, which was still secure, but the side was split out.
I picked up the cup and went up to the counter. I waited as several other people were waited on. Each of the two people working the counter took several new food orders as I stood there. Finally somebody noticed me. “What can I get for you?”
I smiled. “I need salt, a new cup, sauce for my sandwich, and a mop.”
The lady working the counter handed me a cup and tossed the broken one. She called to a young man in the back to bring out salt, and went back to the front counter to take orders. He brought two salt packets and four pepper packets. I shook my head. “I don’t need any pepper — just salt.” He took back the pepper packets and brought out salt.
Half a loaf is better than none. No sauce for my sandwich, no mop…but I did get the salt and a cup. The cute guy used the roll of paper towels to mop up the floor. He didn’t like the garlic parmesan sauce he had got, so he offered it to me to try. It was more of an oil-vinegar salad dressing with garlic and parmesan – more oily than creamy. I was not impressed either.
I nibbled on a few fries. Then I picked up a French fry and saw the hair attached to it. Not a long hair of mine sitting on top, but embedded into the fry – short, black and curly. I showed it to the lady wiping the table next to us, and she was horrified. She quickly grabbed it, grabbed my bowl, and whisked it away.
A short while later, she returned with a new meal. Beaming proudly, she said “I had them remake the meal for you!”
She meant well. I wished she had not done that, as my appetite was gone. It is actually hard to destroy my appetite — I didn’t get this girlish figure by missing many meals — but I was not able to eat the replacement meal.
To be honest, I’m not sure what Slim Chicken could have done to make me happy at that point. I do know I won’t ever go back there, and I cannot give them a good review.