Unfortunately, we were not warned ahead of time about our waitress, Fran. Fran had the smile of a lunch lady waiting to kill. She was snippy, acted like we rushed her and wanted nothing more than to pour drinks down Leah's shirt.
Even the cook could not do his job. Our dinners were tasteless and horrible. You may ask where I'm referring to and I'm scared to even say it. It's a major disappointment in my book. Shame, shame, Red Lobster. You only filled my belly with delicious bread and yummy water. And water cannot even be yummy!
The only person who did their job correctly was Bobby, the master behind the picture taking, but that is only because we knew him. Although, every time he walked by our table, you could feel a hint of awkward-ness. Happily, we did make it out alive and food poisoning free. Ashley and I then continued our rendezvous to play glow in the dark putt-putt. Trust me, it's not what it's all cracked up to be. Try avoiding nightmares after staring into a giant clowns face for hole number 18. It was more terrifying than exciting. But, it was two dollars cheaper than the other place we had in mind.
I don't know how to end this cleverly. Um, can I get a liter of cola?
Send that pic to America's Next Top Model!
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