The salad dressing was bland, except for the bitter taste of unseasoned oil. I convinced myself to crunch down the greens, reminding myself that at least it was nutritious.
Their famous milkshakes, which I have enjoyed before, were terrible. My strawberry milkshake was not made with fresh strawberries, like it was the first time I visited the restaurant, but with bottled supermarket strawberry syrup. And worse, it was a milkshake minus the shake. What I received at the table was a plop of over-sweet vanilla ice cream floating in lukewarm milk. I sent it back to be shaken, but all they did was add more of the stomach turning tub-variety ice cream. I asked the waitress what was going on and she told me that I should mix it with my straw. When I told her that I didn't have to mix it myself last time I was at the restaurant she told me I was mistaken and that "it is our typical practice." So after poking the ice cream about in the milk, which was finally starting to cool, I got a messy table and a little miffed that I had to shake my own $5 shake.
The only good thing that happened during this meal was that the waitress forgot to bring me my soup, likely avoiding another disaster.
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