It was a fine Friday evening. My day was normal, worked my half day and then had lunch with a friend, went shopping and bought books I didn’t need (I mean I did because I’ll read them, but… do I have the room? Am I reading fast enough? No…. ) and then had to go to the post office again.
Later, my family and I picked up my mom’s truck from the mechanic and we were hungry so we stopped at RibCrib on the way home. I instantly got excited when I remembered the enchiladas they started having. I’M GETTING THOSE, I thought.
I literally THOUGHT.
They were kind of busy in there so as we waited, I had made up my mind. My heart was set on enchiladas. BUT THEY WERE NO LONGER ON THE MENU. 🥺
When our server came to the table, I asked him and he said they don’t have them anymore.
The actual sadness.
I knew… I knew that they were for a limited time, but why didn’t I know they’d be gone so soon?
“Okay, we’ll I guess I’ll just settle for my second favorite. I’ll get the Super Spud.”
“Unfortunately, we ran out of spuds today.”
All my first world problems collided for quite an unfortunate trauma.
The server left with our drink order while I got myself together and figured out what I wanted to eat from the rest of the menu.
When he returned, I settled for the Smoky Chicken Griller. Very good and good enough to satisfy my hunger, obviously.
Here’s some memes I made about the occasion.
***Some aspects of this story have been dramatized and not meant to be taken seriously***
What restaurant traumas such as this have you experienced lately? Please comment and tell me… I’m not alone.