Robert arrived at 1:00, and we went to the KFC on Western Boulevard, where we had one of the most unpleasant customer service experiences I've had in a while. There was a girl sweeping the lobby when we arrived, and when she finally decided that serving customers waiting in line was a higher priority than that, she sauntered over to take our orders.
She did not stop at the sink to wash her hands, and I watched to see if she was just going to do cashiering or if she was going to eventually touch our food. She took our orders about as slowly and as disinterested as she possibly could, and when we walked over to put our drinks down at a table, we saw that she had just dropped the broom in the middle of the lobby floor beside the small pile of trash she had managed to sweep to that point.
Returning back to the counter to wait for our food to be prepared, she walked over to the sink, turned on the water for no more than three seconds, while she cut her hands once across the stream, barely long enough to get them wet. No soap whatsoever was involved in this maneuver.
I watched her prepare our plates, and at no time did her hands touch any of our food. She spooned the mashed potatoes and slaw into the divider plates and she picked up the chicken and biscuits with tongs. Good thing. For her. 'Cause, otherwise, I so would have SHIFTED INTO UPPER CASE on her.
We sat down to eat, and she walked back around to continue her sweeping. She literally dragged the metal dustpan around on the tiled floor as she moved from spot to spot, making this loud, continuous racket while we tried to enjoy our lunch.
Mercifully, she finished that up and then she began a long, loud, and I mean very loud, back-and-forth with the manager on duty, airing all the dirty laundry about the store. "[Employee name] said [such-and-such]." "And then, she [did this-and-that]." "She tell me what to do." "Who do she think she talkin' to?" "She don't tell me what to do. I know how to close this place." and so on.
And the manager, giving it right back, "Well, she should at least ask you to do things. When I work with her..." and so on.
Absolutely no notion (or care) at all about customer service and awareness, or the remotest of possibilities that not only don't they want to hear about their internal store problems, but maybe, just maybe, they'd like to enjoy a nice quiet lunch.
You can bet I'm going to go to the website on the receipt, where they ask you to give them feedback on how they did on your last visit.
Back at my house, Robert and I watched John Huston's classic (1948) Key Largo starring Humphrey Bogart, Edward G. Robinson, and Lauren Bacall.
I don't ever watch old movies on my own, so I appreciate that a few weeks ago when he found out that I'd be passing through Key Largo when I vacation in Key West later this month, Robert suggested we see it. He was visiting his brother recently and was surprised to find that he had a copy of the movie on DVD. Bonus.
I enjoyed the movie, particularly the ending. I look forward to seeing any potential remnants or references to the movie when I pass through there.
I met Joe at Flex at 9:00, where we parked and walked over to The Borough. We only had one drink there, where Liz (the owner/manager) was in a playful mood, bending down with her chin near the bar, sort of between glasses, and whispering, "Do you want another drink?"
"Why are we whispering?" Joe asked.
"I don't know," she replied.
After that one drink, we walked over to Flex, where the drinks are so much cheaper, and it's free pool night on Sundays. Karaoke is going on and David was the host for a change, which was funny because we were just talking about how he and Bob used to alternate doing it, but for the longest time now, it's been Bob pretty much every week.
We played two games of pool, and then after being so annoyed with the place that we couldn't stand it any more, left at 10:50. We have got to find something else to do next Sunday night.