I love food and I love to eat.  Despite this I do not consider myself a food snob (my pickiness towards food is an indictment on condiments rather preferring high-end food).  Because I love to eat it pains me when I have to take issue with a restaurant; especially one that both Sharla and I both enjoy.

This particular "Neighborhood Bar and Grill", which I'll call "Fruit Bugs" has forced me into a love/hate relationship.



Like most relationships, it started off blissfully.  It was my wife's favorite restaurant since it had my wife's favorite dish -- the "new nachos", and I could find several things on the menu I would enjoy.  Life was grand.  But as many relationships go, I suppose we got greedy.  Maybe we saw a little too much of Fruit Bugs and surely by statistics alone we were bound to have some bad experiences.  Unfortunately it is easy to miss the signs of a dysfunctional relationship when the partner is so accessible (and serves Mtn. Dew).

About a year ago we visited Fruit Bugs with our friend Amy, were we flaunting our relationship with the chain restaurant?  Maybe, but things were going so great.  What could go wrong?  Well to start they could seat us within arms length of 3 smoking sorostitutes despite our non-smoking request, they could be out of what I wanted to order, they could take half an hour longer than usual to serve us our food, and they could send an incompetent waitress out to tell us "your food will be out any minute" (every 10 minutes).

How could you do us like this Fruit Bugs?  I don't even recognize you.  I don't think we can keep seeing each other.

They same time heals old wounds.  So does the allure of curb side pickup.

Maybe if I just eat your food we can go back to the way things were.  So I dial your number once again, hoping to hear that familiar voice.

I'd like an order of the New Nachos, and a Chicken Quesadilla with no pico.  That will be all.  Yes, I'd love cutlery, how thoughtful.  I'll be my silver car, you know the one.  Thanks!  Bye.

I drive up, pay, get my food, how convenient.  Maybe we can make this work!

Oh how soon we forget.  The aforementioned cutlery -- no where to be found.  My pico-less mexi-grilled cheese?  Laden with pico.  The New Nachos?  Hardly new, now limp from the five minute drive home.  Never again I say.  Fool me once, shame on you -- fool me twice, shame on me.

But again, after a few weeks and a tough day at work, there you are, so inviting.  "Try me again," says Fruit Bugs, "we'll make it right."  And they did.  Back to normal, but not for long, after a few good times more problems.

Hell bent on fixing this relationship I think "if Fruit Bugs won't listen, maybe I need to go up the ladder."

...I bared my soul to that online comment form.  The response, "Thanks for contacting Fruit Bugs, we're glad you have enjoyed your experience."  Do you even listen to me Fruit Bugs?  If you can't do any better than this we're done -- for good.

This past weekend we saw Fruit Bugs again with our friends Hannah and Adam.  Maybe it was arrogance, but there was no way Fruit Bugs would show us up in front of friends, not a second time.  But Fruit Bugs is a cruel mistress.

Sure, I can understand your lunch specials only being available on week days, but is there a reason our waitress couldn't tell us this as we all ordered it?  Did she really need to wait ten minutes before realizing our order wasn't valid?  Is it within that same waitress' realm of power to make her own substitutions to one of our orders without our knowledge, approval, or blessing?  Maybe you did bring us "the closest thing" to "Cheddar-Jack Mac and Cheese with Chicken", but it wasn't close enough.

Maybe you were just trying to give us "the closest thing" to the old Fruit Bugs we loved, but again, it wasn't close enough.

I would say we are done with Fruit Bugs, but at this point, I don't even believe myself when I say it.