Oh dear. I'm going to leave my review at 2 stars because I have had a decent time here, but you guys have GOT to hear this:
Some co-workers and I stopped into My Big Fat Greek Restaurant for a quick lunch last Saturday (we were working at the Herberger Festival of the Arts). It also happened to be Jami's birthday, which made the ridiculousness of our meal that much more memorable.
OK, we arrive and are seated around 12:30ish. The waitress asks, "Would you like to order drinks?" We reply yes, as we are hot and tired and ready for big glasses of water. She gives us the alcoholic drink menu.
"Oh, no ... sorry!" we say, "we want water, please."
Jami orders an iced tea, and then I say, "Do you have Coca-Cola?"
She says, "Yes, you want a Coke?"
"Yes, please. But I want water also."
"So, half and half?"
"Yes. No! Wait - I would like one glass of water and one separate glass of Coke."
Did that just happen?
Our drinks arrive, and my Coke does not taste right. We don't think it's diet, but something just isn't right. We flag down another waitress and tell her about the funky Coke. I ask, "Can you maybe taste the regular Coke to see if it's something with the machine?"
She says, "I don't really know the difference, so I don't know how much help I'll be, but I'll get you another."
She returns with a fresh Coke, and I take a sip. The table erupts with laughter based on my facial expression. It is not good. She says, "Yeah, I tasted it and it didn't taste right."
So she brought it to me anyway?
She starts to leave, and I say, "Um, can I get something else - a Mr. Pibb?"
"You want something else?"
"Well, I want SOMETHING."
The new drink arrives, and it's fine. Whew.
We order our lunch, and there is some confusion over whether or not Jami and I are sharing because we happen to be ordering the same dish. I have to explain, "I would like my own personal order of the falafel pita." Lillian orders a calzone.She's excited for something gooey and cheesy. When she orders, Lil actually points to the item she is ordering. "I"ll have the Mediterranean calzone, but without pepperoni."
Our food arrives, and the waitress is carrying a pizza. Uh oh.
"Oh, I, um, wanted a calzone."
The waitress stares. "This is what you ordered, see?" and she holds up her notepad. "No pepperoni."
"No .... I ordered a calzone, not a pizza."
"It's the same thing," she says. "Just fold it over."
Jami and I individually examine our falafel. There is no tzatziki sauce, and we flag down another waitress who immediately gets it for us. Now, I've had the falafel here, and it's been good before, but on this particular day it was as hard as a rock. Really. It was nearly impossible to stab it with a fork. I ate my fries. Jami started pounding one of her falafel disks on her plate, and it sounded like the falafel was ceramic.
The waitress came over to ask us if everything was ok, and I said, "Actually, the falafel is really overcooked. You might want to tell the kitchen. I've had it here before, and this is really inedible."
"Do you want something else?"
"No, thanks" I was filling up on fries and eating the pita. Really healthy, I know.
She left and then returned and said, "I asked and they said you have to crumble it in your hands."
We almost burst out laughing.
We chatted about how crazy it was that it was Jami's birthday and we were having this ridiculously bad lunch.
The waitress came back to ask us how things were, and Jami said, "Fabulous!" We were hysterical.
At least now we have a fun story, and a new office catch-phrase. When something's not quite right, we'll say, "Just fold it over."