Soon, there won't be any restaurant left in Brooklyn that I can order food from. I'm cursed!
Tonight, when I was completing my last task of the day in Queens, I called GF and told her I was on the way home. We decided I'd stop at a Mexican place in the neighborhood and pick up dinner there. I could have called in the order, but frankly, I don't mind ordering when I get there because I can have a Pina Coloda while I'm waiting for the order. They make a mean Pina Colada.
The bartender recognized me and knew what I'd be ordering before I told her. She also remembered that I'd ask them to leave the sour cream off my burrito and that a month or so back, the kitchen had sent me home with a burrito loaded with sour cream. She wrote it in really big letters on the ticket.
One tasty Pina Colada later, I had my order in hand and headed home. So, guess what. Sour cream had yet again invaded my burrito. I really can't stand the stuff. Now I could have just scraped it off, but its under the guacomole and I love the guacomole part.
I called. She apologized...said they'd deliver another one and asked for the address. Said it'd be ten minutes. Now I knew ten minutes was ridiculous but I figured 1/2 hour. I could live with that. After 40 minutes I called again. She knew he had left with it...didn't know why he hadn't gotten to my house yet.
At the 1 hour mark, I called and said not to bother with the food...just send me the money. After an hour of the kid not showing, I called and asked if they thought he might show up before midnight.
Short version? At 11:20P.M. the kid finally rang my bell and gave me back my money...all $7.60 of it. I'm gonna miss their Pina Coloadas.