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Not What We Ordered

I told this story last night when I spoke... about a strange restaurant experience I had.

Upon hearing of these amazing steaks, I thought I would mosey in and try their cuisine, so I drove it, went it, and was seated. My waiter, dapper from head to toe, was a perfect gentleman in handing me my menu. I remarked that it was their reputation for steaks that led me to their establishment.

"Our steaks are exquisite."
"Well, that's settled - I'll have one."
"Excellent choice, sir."

And with that, he spun about and headed for the kitchen to place my order. I then watched him lean toward the expediter and I distinctly saw him mouth the words "HOT DOG."

Bewildered, I waited until he turned toward me and waved him to come see me. But instead, he furtively looked away and seemed to avoid me, trying to make busy in another part of the restaurant.

I got up, and casually walked to speak to him, and he actually started walking away from me. So we kind of slow participated in this slow chase through the seating area until I finally caught up to him.

"Excuse me. I'm the guy who ordered steak."
"Yes, sir. I remember you. Fine choice."
"Right, well, I watched you turn in my order to the kitchen and I could have sworn that I saw you say 'hot dog' as you did. You ordered me a steak, right?"
He paused and squared his shoulders. "You have to understand... steak can be very difficult to prepare. It takes longer than expected and..."
I stopped him. "Wait a second. You actually ordered me a hot dog?"
He smiled and put his hand on my shoulder. "All of our menu is wonderful and sometimes we have to make compromises. You know how it is."
"No, I don't. I know that when I place an order, and you tell me that I'm getting steak and then I get hot dog - what kind of place is this? Why did I come to eat here?"
He took me by the elbow and started to walk with me. "Please do have a seat. Your food will be out shortly."

Sure enough, a hot dog arrived a few minutes later. It remained on my plate, untouched. I was disgusted.

I later learned that I'm actually a co-owner of the restaurant. And so are you. We thought we would be served open carry in Texas, stoppage on late-term abortions, and other broken promises.

But thankfully, that means as co-owners together, we're also in charge of human resources.

Sometimes after the successful launch of a venture, the owners entrust it to those they believe capable of running it. But as often happens, the business falls into disrepair and the service suffers and the product becomes awful and the place is deeply in the red.

Time for us owners to roll up our sleeves and fix the place. It will be hard work and take time, but if we truly care about the place, we'll get it done.

P.S. Evidently while we were away, some fella named Obama got promoted to kitchen manager and all of the food being ordered and paid for by our patrons is getting served instead to random people out the back door. So in addition to replacing the almost all of the wait staff, we also need to stop him.

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Brett Rogers, Somewhere in Texas (832) 226-5300

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