Monday, October 3, 2011

The CURSE Landed Us At the Rowdy Chicken

It is true. Barry and I are cursed. I don’t know who cursed us or why, but we have a restaurant curse. It began shortly after we were married. Someday, I will chronicle the cursed restaurant events.
Right now, I am just going back to last week. We were on a three day golf trip at the Winstar Golf Course in Oklahoma with the Retired Couples. I don’t know why the curse didn’t pop into our mind the first morning when some things went awry at breakfast. I think we were too enthralled with the sunrise to think about it.

The last evening of the trip, several couples decided to go to McGee’s for catfish. In that area of Thackerville/Marietta, McGee’s is famous for their catfish. One of our fearless leaders called the restaurant for directions before we left. Now, if you called a restaurant, asked for directions, and those said directions were given, wouldn’t you assume that the restaurant was open? 
When we pulled up to McGee’s, it was dark and locked. There were two cars in the parking lot. Then, some employees came out of the restaurant, got in their cars, and drove away. This is where Barry and I had to confess to our companions that we are cursed. 
W all decided to go to the Los Rocos Mexican Restaurant in Marietta. Between McGee’s and Los Rocos, we did notice a flashing sign that said “All You Can Eat Catfish and Shrimp” pointing to a structure off the road. As luck or curse would have it, when we pulled into Los Rocos the parking lot was packed. Even though a full parking lot can mean that the food is good, it looked too crowded. We opted to head back to the “All You Can Eat” place. 
The Rowdy Chicken had at least two cars in their parking lot. We went in and were greeted by a young, pregnant woman. She and her husband (the cook) were the owners. She was thrilled to have fourteen people walk into her new restaurant. In that second, her clientele more than tripled. She said they would have no problem handling our party of fourteen and seated us immediately. 
Next she came to take our drink orders. They did not have their license for beer yet, and she informed us that she was not ever going to serve hard liquor “because she was afraid of large parties like ours.” Senior citizens = party time in Marietta, I assume. 
Most of us ordered the catfish basket, but Barry and one of the other men ordered the all you can eat catfish and hush puppies. Of course, fourteen orders does kind of slam a kitchen with one cook, so we had a little wait. 
During this time, Barry and I shared my favorite restaurant curse story. 
Barry, the kids, and I had been in Galveston for several days. Barry was very tan after several days on the beach. It was Father’s Day, and we met Barry’s family at Pappisitos in Houston for lunch. It was really crowded and the wait was long. We finally were seated. My seat was facing a very large family of Asians waiting for their meal.  All of a sudden, I saw their faces light up. They were pointing as a waitress came by with a huge tray of sizzling fajitas. Apparently they had spotted their order coming toward them. Then, I saw a look of concern come over their faces and then horror. Their lunch was slipping off the tray in slow motion onto Barry. The next thing I knew, Barry was jumping up and yelling. The waitress asked, “Are you okay?”
Barry yelled, “No, I am not okay! It burned me.”  The waitress began to cry. 
The Asian family looked like they were going to cry too. However, the Brier family was in hysterics. Barry kept telling us it was not funny and that it hurt, but we couldn’t stop. 
Next, they took Barry to the kitchen. After a few minutes, he came out dressed in the busboy uniform. Another round of hysteria ensued.  With his tan and his uniform, we couldn’t help but ask him for more water and tea, when he got to our table. 
The restaurant washed Barry’s clothes and gave him his meal free. I don’t know what happened with the waitress or the Asian family. 

About this time, our waitress at the Rowdy Chicken brought us several ketchup bottles for the table. Each one of them was empty. We pointed this out to her, she said, “Yeah, We are low on ketchup.”
When the food came, Barry had no hush puppies. When he asked about them, he was told, that normally with his order you received all you could eat hush puppies, but they had run out this evening. Those other four customers must have eaten a lot of hush puppies.
The catfish was excellent, and we all enjoyed the owner. She was precious. For our dessert, she served us each a piece of miniature Halloween candy.

That, my friends, is how the Restaurant Curse led us to the Rowdy Chicken.


  1. In my career as a waiter I've only dropped one tray of food. It was while waiting on the Brier's

  2. When we were first married, I thought we had a restaurant curse, or maybe it was just me that had a Dos Gringos curse. I could not go there without having something spilled on me, including plates of food dumped in my lap, a margarita spilled down my back and a full pitcher of ice water dropped on the table so that it flooded my just-delivered meal and splashed so that my hair and clothes were soaked.

  3. Joe- I remember the tray drop. It is just as funny today as it was then.
    Mom- I thought this story was going to end in everyone getting sick. It could always be worse. :)