We get together for knitting and dinner every week, and used to go to that IHOP quite a lot. But after our regular server, Ashley, left them, the service deteriorated terribly and we stopped going. How happy we were to hear that Ashley was back there again!
Alas, the rumor was false. And the service was even worse than before.
The tables were sticky, the rug was dirty. The server brought half our drinks in styrofoam cups because "the kitchen was out of clean dishes". (WTF?) Then she disappeared for 20 minutes. We were finally able to place our orders, only to wait another half an hour with no food and our server nowhere in sight.
I finally got up and told a different server how long we had been waiting, was there a problem? He checked with the kitchen, came back, and said, "It takes a long time to make all those hamburgers". Only two people in our group had ordered hamburgers, and how long does it take to grill a hamburger anyway?
I should add that the place was almost empty, with only three other tables occupied.
After this complaint, though, our food came very quickly. Some of it was wrong, but we were hungry and decided to just deal. (No seasonings on the "seasoned fries", for example, no ketchup brought to the table, and my bacon was so cold it had little bits of congealed grease on it...)
Unfortunately, our server now started to hover. She dropped by much too often, interrupting our conversations to ask if everything was OK and refill the water. She started clearing plates while people were still eating off them! My friend was holding her sandwich in her hand when the server swooped in and took her plate out from under her, plopping another dirty plate down on top of the onion rings my friend had still wanted to eat.
We were then brought a bill for the entire table (no one had asked if we wanted separate checks, so we let that pass), and with the items listed on it in no particular order. It was a bit difficult to figure out which drinks and main dishes went with which person. We walked up to the cashier as a group, still figuring out who had to pay how much.
As one of my friends did her mental arithmetic, I was shocked to hear the cashier laugh at her, saying, "Do you always make your fingers dance like that when you think?"
In the parking lot, my husband and I decided that we should have responded, "If you'd ever try thinking, you might do it too."
They've lost regular service from us and from everyone we speak to.