Okay, so my mother and I LOVE Mexican food, as I'm sure many do, because it's simply delicious. Well, today, we were at our local mall and decided that we would stop in the new Mexican restaurant, Salsa's Mexican Grill, for a bite to eat. We come in, and the place is empty, so we are seated very quickly (Perhaps we should have taken that as a sign to leave...), and given chips and salsa. Normal, right? I munched on a few chips and salsa and immediately found the salsa to be less-than-satisfactory, not to mention super watery. This should have been another red flag, but my mother seemed fairly content so I went along with it.
Our waitor came shortly, and after sampling the salsa I'd decided it would be in my best interest to go straight for the dessert: fried ice cream. Mmmm. Which, I have to say, was pretty delicious. And big, too. My mother ordered her favorites: vegetarian nachos and a vegetarian enchilada.
When my mother's nachos came, I was shocked. These "vegetarian nachos" were but a small pile of limp chips with a few lumps of refried beans, smothered in American cheese. Yes. American cheese. Mother and I were puzzled by this; we were under the impression that this was a Mexican restaurant.
Once my poor mother had finished her nachos (yes, she was desperate and hungry) our lovely waitor came back to greet us with a "So like, you guys done now?" My mom gave him a look like "wtf dude", and then said "Er, no, I ordered an entree..."
Homeboy then remembered and disappeared into the kitchen to get her entree.
My mom's entree came out, and it was like, a huuuuge pile of lettuce and a slice of tomato (?) towering over a dinky enchilada. The waitor dude came back to check on us like five times while my mother was finishing off her meal, and I was beginning to get the feeling he wanted us out of there (I don't really know why, they weren't busy, we're paying customers, and the mall doesn't close until 9 pm...). Finally, once my mother had -actually- finished her meal, our server was nowhere to be found. Ten minutes pass. Fifteen. Finally, he shows up, says "NOW you're done", and hands us our bill, then disappears again. My mom gets fed up so she simply takes the bill up to the front desk, where it gets taken care of in no time at all.
We left him three dollars, which, personally, I think is a bit generous for how we were treated.
My mother still feels sick from her meal. She told me afterwards that going there was the single worst idea she's ever had.
Pretty sure neither of us would ever go back even if we were paid to.