Red Robin- I don't know about you.

Last Friday we went out to eat with friends to celebrate a birthday. Red Robin is a fine family burger establishment, and the evening started out with us having a nice time chatting and deciding what to order. When my turn rolled around I opted for a new choice- the Santa Fe Burger. It sounded different and I was feeling a little adventurous.

The waiter asked, "Do you want any pink on that?"

"Pink on what?" is my reply.

"The burger."

"Is it even legal to serve it that way? No, I do NOT want to see any pink in my burger."

I was even more thoroughly grossed out after Megan told me she likes pink in hers. Really? People enjoy eating hamburger like that? Huh. I never would have guessed.

Everyones order was brought out and I tried a few fries before I endulged in my burger. As I picked it up to take a bite, which is quite a challenge for me with all the appliances in my mouth, I maneuver my mouth around the beast and bite down. Nothing. I tried again, to no avail. I set the burger down and pushed on the top bun with my finger- it didn't budge. I stuck my finger nail in it and couldn't hardly get through- that bun was officially a crouton.

Now, I'm not really a complainer, I promise. But burgers and sandwiches are a real ordeal to eat with braces (have you noticed that Tiff?). So, I figured I need all the help I can get. I get the waiters attention and tell him about the burger. He apologizes and takes it back. When the second burger finally arrives the manager brings it out with his apologies. Great. Since everyone is half finished, I take a huge bite to try and close the distance. Much to my dismay I pull the burger back only to find a huge flash of pink staring me in the eye.

"Are you serious?" I tell Jeremy.

It is all he can do to contain his laugher.

Now, really I'm NOT a complainer. And I would have just let this slide because I hate sending food back- if it weren't for the extensive conversation we had about pink with the waiter before hand. So for a second time I flag him down and tell him of my plight. Slightly annoyed he takes it back. A few minutes later another manager stops by the table and asks

"Who's the hungry guy here who's order I keep messing up?"

After everyone busts up laughing, I say "Yeah, the hungry guy would be me."

The manager looks a little embarrassed, so I add to the fire.

"Yeah, not only do you not get my burger right, but then you insult me as well. I love it."

He laughs and tells me they will take care of everything. Great. I'm really confidant in the promise.

So as everyone is finished and waiting, my third burger arrives. I tell the waiter thank you and he informs me he is going to wait for me to take a bite and approve before hes going to leave the table.

Oh, really.

I seriously hate eating in front of people because of the braces. I always have something stuck inbetween the mounds of metal in my mouth. So to have the whole table waiting with baited breath and the waiter with eyes glued on me was totally traumatic. Could there have been a more embarrassing situation? I don't know. I was totally mortified.

The burger was good, the meat being just above charcoal well-done. But after the whole night I just didn't have the appetite necessary to finish it. I declined a box when our waiter offered. Although maybe I should have just bagged it up so I didn't seem like such an ungrateful shrew.

They didn't charge me for the three burgers I ordered, and the company was good. I think the night was a success, don't you?