Last night shall forever be known as “Free Steak Night”, for reasons of the obvious – I received a free steak from PT’s. I shall now attempt to record for future posterity just how this steak, those twelve ounces of meaty goodness came to be eaten by me, free of charge.
Allow me to set the stage, as it were.
It was a Wednesday night, around 8:15 PM. The usual suspects of Coldiron, Rosenberg and myself had already gathered in the customary corner booth. We were also joined by Coldirons occasional side-kick Geneva, and two new faces: Ariel and Josh.
Erica, our normally perky, if somewhat forgetful, waitress dropped by to gather our food and drink orders. Nothing too complicated was ordered – chili, chicken fingers, sliders, a steak sandwich (well done) and two strip steaks (medium-rare, french fries, no beans – one with a side of mushrooms, one blackened). After reading all this back, she wandered off to place the order and we settled back to converse over our adult beverages.
A while later, two people we’d never seen before brought us our plates – and there were a lot of them. Almost immediately problems were noted: Coldiron and I had no fries, but did have beans and rice. We mentioned this, and they promptly ran away to grab us some fries.
I eyed my steak warily, as something about it looked off – but what, I couldn’t say. I cut into it – and it was gray. A dark gray, the kind of gray that lets you know it’d been cooked. A lot.
Geneva noticed almost immediately, and said something about sending it back.
“No,” I said, “I don’t mind well done now and then.”
I took a bite.
And fought very hard not to spit it out. The steak was not only cooked more than I had expected, but the whole bottom was burned. Not charred, but burned. Bad enough that it made it inedible.
About this time our fries had arrived – so I quickly explained that my steak was overdone, and would it be a problem if, maybe, they could bring me one that was medium-rare?
Apologies on all sides ensued – and I was assured that a new, rarer steak would be out forthwith.
And it was – I was shocked at how quickly they had managed to cook and bring out a new steak. Rosenberg said it was the same steak, but I thought he was just joking around. But, no! Upon closer inspection, it was the same steak, only flipped onto it’s other side!
I, quickly, called over someone to point this out – and after a bit of explanation along the lines of:
“Is this steak wrong too?”
“No, this is the same steak.”
“Cooked the same?”
“No – the steak you just brought me? It’s the steak you brought me the first time.”
“One steak – this one – has been given to me twice now for being over cooked.”
“Oh… Shit…” >_<
So, the steak went away, and about ten minutes later a newer, larger, rawer steak was brought in it’s place.
And it was yummy.