Chicken…Chicken Something

When I was 12 years old. my family went on our very first trip out west. It was fun to explore and visit new states such as Arizona and Nevada. I also loved seeing the Grand Canyon and Sedona Red Rock for the first time because they looked like paintings to me and I had never seen anything like them since we lived in a small suburb in Ohio. We also ate at a variety of different restaurants on this trip, from enjoying a delicious breakfast outside our resort in Phoenix to pigging out at Las Vegas Buffets. However, we had one humorous dining experience on our trip that I will never forget.

During our third night of the trip, we stayed at Hondah, a resort in Pinetop, Arizona ran by Apache Indians. Our room was huge and all the furniture was made from pine wood. The resort also had a very warm pool and hot tub which was incredibly relaxing after a long drive from Phoenix.

After checking into our room, we were starving so we decided to grab dinner at the hotel restaurant. The restaurant was located way in the back of the resort and you had to walk through the casino to get to it. We walked into the restaurant and were seated towards the back. This already seemed odd because there weren’t even many people there and many tables in the front were available. We waited for what seemed like a half hour just to get our drinks.

Finally a woman with dark curly hair came running to our table and took our drink orders. She seemed very out of breath and like she was in a hurry. My Dad then asked her what the soup of the day was. She replied:

“Chicken… Chicken something. I don’t know but it’s good.”

My Dad gave her a strange look and said he would just have that. My two siblings and I ordered a cheese pizza to split and my Mom ordered a salad. My parents got their food in within about 20 minutes. But my siblings and I still had not gotten our pizza after about 45 minutes.

We then spotted our waitress just standing there next to the cash register. She didn’t notice us staring at her at first. But finally she turned around, saw the three of us and exclaimed “Holy Jesus!” and ran back to the kitchen. my siblings and I looked at each other and laughed hysterically.

We got our pizza shortly after that and it was actually really good despite the bad restaurant service. After we finished our dinner, we were still hungry and decided to order dessert. When our waitress got back, my Dad asked what the dessert options were. Our strange waitress replied:

“I don’t know. I’ll go across the street to the bakery and see.”

10 minutes later she returned and said we could have chocolate cake or cheesecake. The three of us kids got the chocolate cake while my Dad got the cheesecake. We ate our dessert and left the restaurant shortly after that.

We later found out that it was only our waitress’s second day working at that restaurant. There’s a shocker!

One clap, two clap, three clap, forty?

By clapping more or less, you can signal to us which stories really stand out.