myoptika wrote:
How the fuck did a fight erupt in Nandos? "Oi, you spilt my chicken!"? I can understand it in a pub where twats are wasted, but in a family-orientated food restaurant it really beggars belief.
Family oriented? Not my fucking family, I promise you.
My local Nandos (I'd sooner eat MS-DOS) is in the 'brewery quarter' of Cardiff - every town has one of these now, a sort of converted mill (or brewery) which has been done up rather than knocked down (good) and filled with homogenised chain pubs and bars which attract feckless tards as staff and patrons (bad). I was dragged in there once by my wife and mother in law, who didn't want to go to the nice steak restaurant on St Mary's St. They were of to see Brian Ferry and this was my mum-in-law's birthday treat meal.
The steak was identical is size, colour and texture to my black DSLite, the house red tasted like men and the entire serving staff consisted of the kind of blank-faced barely communicative mouth breathers who run around past your table at speeds unconducive to relaxing, despite the restaurant being half empty (Wales were beating England in the rugby), take three quarters of an hour to cremate a steak and stick a cunt's salad* on the side pour some salt and maybe a little harpic into the house red and dump them unceremoniously on the table whilst not making eye contact or managing anything more than 'there you go'.
Of course, they'll swoop past in either thirty seconds or two hours "isevryfinkorlrightwivyermeel?". Why wouldn't it be?
Staff aside, while in there and other chain places in town centres/trading estates, I never quite relax. Always seems like the patrons are quite capable of 'escalating things'. Maybe this is from always working around trouble these last few years, or maybe not, but I avoid the nandos of this world at all costs these days, happily ditching my mates on a night out halfway though if they want to go to SquareBar, or anywhere chainy like that. Certainly, even on a good night, I'll move to independant places before half ten if I don't go home.
When one city centre is the same as the next, why bother respecting your environment when you can just move a few miles down the road and start again when you've destroyed this one? Anyone in Cardiff who thinks these places are decent family restaurants, post here and I'll pass your ip addreses to social services. Your children (sorry 'KIDS') deserve better.
* Cunt's salad = lettuce, a bit of tomato and maybe a little bit of purple onion if you are lucky, no dressing. I'm not sure why the chef doesn't just come out and piss in my face rather than bother serving this crap, I'd be less offended.