The Chinese Failure

Once a commanding idol of exactitude in order accuracy, take-out Chinese establishments across the nations have begun to go soft.

Here’s a humdinger that will have you unlatching those styrofoam containers to corroborate employee assertions of order effectiveness:

Panda Express is the culprit in this meltdown that had me reeling for hours on end.  Settling in for a night of glorious take-out of the finest Chinese quality, deeming it the most appropriate cuisine to enhance the opening ceremonies of the Beijing Olympic Games, I eagerly awaited my order of Kung Pao Chicken to arrive (someone else was picking up the food).  Little did I know that instead of delicious Chinese food, a catastrophe of the most epic proportions was in the making.  Observe below:

Now if you find yourself wondering why I only have a side of steamed white rice, and not the Kung Pao Chicken that was supposed to be my main entree,  then you must have the same mindset that I had when I was getting ready to indulge myself in pseudo-Chinese culture. Anyone who has ordered food at this establishment should know that the uncanny code on top of the styrofoam lid is meant to indicate to the next employee down the buffet line which entrees should go into this order. For example, C1 would be Orange Chicken and B5 would be Beijing Beef. In this case, C3 should register the third type of chicken the restaraunt offers, Kung Pao. In this situation, the employee must have been on a Huangjiu binge the day when they went over this concept at PEU.

A prompt telephone call to management resulted in an apology and an invitation to come back to the restaurant and have the faux pas corrected. However, as it would have taken over half an hour to drive there and back, I instead opted for a rain check, for I did not want to miss a moment of the $300M production.

It is understandable that customer service was not included in Project 119, but Panda Express should at least strive to pass the qualifying rounds.