My big shop done and loaded into my car boot, I ambled back in store and made my way towards the café. There was a queue of 5 or 6 people at the breakfast “pass”. Silently we all stood there whilst a game of breakfast ingredients top trumps was being played out around us. “bacon egg muffin”, “fried bread”, “fresh or tinned tomatoes”, “2 flying starts"* A trayless bunch (there were none out), we all shuffled along as plates were passed to and fro. “We need more eggs going on Lynn”. Lynn was busy cracking eggs, she looked red faced. After the 8th egg was cracked into the greasy receptacle she said, “won’t be a minute on the toast”, quickly followed by, “fried bread won’t be a minute”. I had selected a small box of frosted flakes. I ordered 2 toasts. I asked for a tray and the woman said she would look for one for me.
After 5 minutes of the school dinneresque system, I arrived at the till to pay for my food. I asked for a coffee. I paid £2.70. I asked her where the milk was, where the coffee machines were, could I have a tray and where the cutlery was. I could not see any of the aforementioned accoutrements. Till woman told me it was all "round the corner". Once there, I helped myself to an empty cup, filled it up with black coffee, poured in the milk, poured milk on my cereal, I was then handed a tray. I had to go to another station for a spoon, some butter and some jam. Finally I carried the sorry lot off to sit down and eat.
My toast was not unlike cold, spongy, hotel toast. There were 15 other customers in the café, which is a large space, largely unused. I had forgotten to get a knife. Muttering expletives, I trudged back to get one. When I began buttering my toast, I noticed a lad on a nearby table must have forgotten a knife too. I witnessed him peeling back the seal on the small tub of margarine and pressing said tub onto the bread and attempting to spread it onto his opened bacon barm.
I heard a woman shout “Fried Bread”. The second call for fried bread was more emphatic. No one claimed it.
I enjoyed my coffee, that was the best bit of the Asda café experience. On my way out I noticed a sign boasting of award winning pies.
* I thought “Flying Starts” were a Morrisons Café invention.
.
Being a cafe review site, I would have expected much more of an emphasis on the quality of the food and the level of service along with the standards of housekeeping within the establishment. Instead, what do we get? An obese, lethargic, promiscuous salad dodger ranting about her own failings and incompetence whilst performing a simple task such as ordering breakfast.
ReplyDeleteThe fact you've had to 'amble' back into the store to go to the cafe suggests you're not the type of person to order a 'small box of frosted flakes' and instead no doubt devoured a calorie loaded extra large mega breakfast, with extra fried everything!
Salivating whilst watching another diner spread butter on his breakfast muffin is really quite sad and undoubtedly had you squirming in your seat at the thought of sampling the 'cold, spongy hotel toast' you speak so highly of.
I would place a wager on you using every bit of willpower available to you in order to refrain from spinning around like an oversized pivoting whale at the sight of the 'award-winning pies sign on your way out of the store.
I truly believe you would've headed out of Asda and straight to Morrison's to clarify whether a 'flying start' actually was a Morrison's invention; rewarded by a further few thousand calories in the form of another deep fried, fat laden, carbohydrate filled 'small box of frost flakes'.