Shane: Are you sure you want to do this?
Me: Sure it’s a truck stop, but come on… it’s Denny’s. How bad can it be?
We live in *sort of* the middle of nowhere. There is a grocery store, a couple of gas stations, a Chinese take out place, and a Papa John’s. And a Denny’s. A Denny’s that is attached to a truck stop.
Some people may be repulsed by Denny’s to begin with, but I’m not one of them. I love breakfast, and I’ll take it anyway I can get it. Denny’s, IHOP, Village Inn. One of my favorite things at Denny’s is the heart attack sandwich, aka the Grand Slamwich. Two scrambled eggs, sausage, bacon, ham, mayo, cheese, and a maple syrup spread on grilled bread. Served with a side of hash browns. Sounds GREAT to me!
“Two Grand Slamwiches please.” “Coming right up.”
So I’ve taken a couple bites out of mine when I see Shane pick something off his sandwich and set it on the side of his plate.
Me: What was that?
Shane: Don’t worry about it.
Me: No. What was that?
Shane: I’m not going to tell you. You don’t want to know.
Me: I’m not going to eat another bite until you tell me what that is!
Shane: Oooook. *hands it over to me*
Me: Oh my gosh!! Is that… mold?!?!?!
Sure enough was. They served us a Grand Slamwich on moldy bread! I’m not the type to make a scene, so I just set it down on top of my sandwich and put my fork down.
Waitress: Is everything ok? Can I get you a box or anything?
Me: I’m really sorry but I just can’t eat it anymore.
Waitress: What is that?
Me: It looks like mold to me.
Waitress: It looks like mold to me too.
She cleared my plate and then the manager came over. I will give them one thing: They were honest. The manager came over and said that it was actually mold and that he was very, very sorry. He didn’t try to deny it or lie and say it was something else. He wasn’t going to charge us for anything, but I told him we wanted to pay for one of the sandwiches because we wanted to leave the waitress a tip (it wasn’t her fault after all). They were so embarrassed (rightly so) but I still felt bad for them. I’m sure the waitress wasn’t expecting any sort of tip, so hopefully it was a nice surprise and she knew we were good people.
Even though the mold came off Shane’s plate, they assumed it was from mine since I had put the piece back down on my plate. But still, when the waitress came back to clear our table she asked Shane if she could “remove that for us” That kind of make me chuckle. “That” And she said it with almost a tone of disgust. Like, “Can I remove that offensive piece of crap from your table” LOL
As we took our check to the front to pay, the cashier said, “How was your meal tonight?” and I couldn’t hold the laughter inside. The cashier never got an answer to his question, as I laughed my way straight out the door.
I didn’t hold the mold against them, but I don’t think I’ll be able to go back. I know I won’t go back.