A Letter I sent to the Cheesecake Factory

This afternoon, I thought it would be a good idea to take my mother, who has been recovering from a stroke to dinner and to visit with family, who she hasn’t seen since her disabling stroke. We decided to go to dinner at the Cheesecake Factory, which is about 25 miles from my home. She has never gone. But it's one of my favorite restaurants. I was confident that my mother would enjoy the food, the service, and the atmosphere of your fine establishment, the same as I have for many years. Sadly, shortly after arriving at the Cheesecake, not only were my mother's expectations shattered, I, along with my father and sister, were highly disappointed as well.

For starters, we were seated by a very nice, yet interesting young man. After he sat us, he offered each of us menus. Being that I am totally blind, and I frequent your restaurant often, I asked the host to bring me a Braille menu, a service that I know you guys have available for your blind customers. Well, he said, "A Braille menu?" I replied, "Yes, a Braille menu?" Strangely enough, he repeated his initial question about two more times. He said, “What is Braille?”

Finally, my dad informed him that Braille is for the blind. My dad further explained that Braille is what the blind read instead of print. Boom, the host got it. His response to the lesson he had got from my father was an apology and an admission of his ignorance. And I mean that literally. The host actually smiled and chuckled and said, "I'm sorry... I'm quite ignorant." I’m glad that he understood that his lack of knowledge is indeed ignorance in its finest display.

Well, the young man brought the Braille menu out. And I decided to look over the fact that we had to spend a couple of minutes educating the host regarding blind people and Braille. Plus, I wanted to get to the food. I figured I would let that entire interaction slide for the moment. However, I was making a mental note to contact your corporate office and suggest that you offer diversity and disability awareness to your staff. (Contract me… I’ll be glad to do it.)

The second thing that happened in your fine establishment was what sent me over the edge. The waiter came out and asked our drink orders. Then this young man, that you guys have hired to do a competent job, brought the drinks back to the table, but failed to place them on the table. He dropped a glass of tea on my mother's shoulder, causing the heavy glass to strike her and then the tea wasted all over her shoulder, chest, stomach and lap. That accident was out of line. My mother's outfit was ruined and also her experience.

However, I can deal with accidents. Although we don't expect waiters to do such a thing as he did, I understand that we, humans, are not perfect. But what drove me to utter anger was his response. He tried to play it down and act like it was nothing. He kept saying, "Oh, the drink wasted. It's okay... I'll get another one." It's okay? You'll get another one? I would think that he would be profusely apologizing for the fact that my mother was sitting in a nice restaurant soaked by a glass of tea, long before her food order was even taken.

Then what put the whip cream on the cheesecake, this waiter that was hired by you to do a professional wait job, said and I quote. "Do you feel refreshed now?"

I was outraged. Here was my mother, a newly disabled woman due to a massive stroke, being taunted by a waiter that had wasted a glass of tea on her. Did she feel refreshed? What?! Refreshed?! I found that so called joke to be rude, insensitive, and utterly disrespectful.

I immediately asked for the manager. Well, the manager came out; I explained what had just transpired. Well, the manager only apologized to us for the waiter’s “little booboo. After the manager seemed to offer us nothing other than an apology, I told the manager that my mother’s dinner should be on the house. I explained that she doesn’t get out often due to illness and extensive disability, and that she was soaked in sticky tea, which was making her cold. Well, the manager agreed to discount our ticket by not charging us for my mother’s meal.

Well, it took forever for the waiter to come back and take our dinner orders. And then after he finally took the order, it took even longer for the entrees to come to the table.

My mother was freezing at this point. And I was fuming for a few reasons.
A. I was mad that it was taking so long for the food to come.
B. I was mad that my mother was cold and wet while she was waiting for the food.
C. I was mad that we had to either go back home for her to change clothes, or I had to go inside the mall to buy her an outfit in order to continue with our plans to go and see my mother’s sister after dinner.
D. I was mad that I was mad. FYI, my experience at the Cheesecake Factory is expected to be pleasant and enjoyable. I didn’t plan to spend my evening angry. I left my house, planning to spend money, not unhappy emotions.
E. I was mad that my father and sister, who were also first time customers in your restaurant, were annoyed by the level of service. I had hoped that they would also enjoy the dinner and experience.

Finally, our dinners were brought to the table. As I expected, the food was great. I’m so glad that I was not disappointed with the food. Likewise, my family also enjoyed the food. My mother continued to complain about being cold. But she also mentioned a few times how great her dinner tasted.
After finishing our meals, we hoped to enjoy a slice of cheesecake at the table. But because my mother was still wet and cold, she wanted to go and sit outside in the warm air to try to dry and increase her body temperature. So, we had to further alter our dinner experience by ordering our cheesecake to go.

My mother and father went outside, and my sister and I stayed behind to order the slices of cheesecake.
I clearly told the waiter to please hold the whip cream on my cheesecake. What did he do? He brought out my cheesecake with whip cream all over it. When I pointed out his little mistake, he stated and I quote. “Oh, it automatically comes with whip cream. I can take it back and have them to scrape it off. But otherwise, that’s how it comes.” Well, I’ve been coming to the Cheesecake Factory long enough to know that the whip cream is added on the cheesecake before they bring it out. But I didn’t bother to tell him that. I just agreed to allow them to take the whip cream off for me.

The waiter took a long time to bring the scraped cheesecake with the whip cream residue on it back out to the table. And he took even longer to bring out the check. Once he brought out the check, I saw that my mother’s ice tea that was wasted on her was still on the ticket, as well as my mother’s cheesecake. I was fuming. I felt that the waiter should have made sure that the ticket was correct before bringing it to us.

Well, I had to ask for the manager again, who agreed to make the adjustments. At this point, I felt that all of our dinners or at least our desserts should be free. All of us were completely inconvenienced by this experience. All of us were going to have to either go back home or go to the mall or get my mother something to wear. And yes, I told the manager that. But he just said that he would go ahead and take off my mother’s tea and cheesecake.

I gave him my credit card with the ticket, so that he can take care of the purchase. When he brought back the receipt, my mother’s wasted tea was still on the receipt. Because I was fed up, I frowned, signed the receipt, grabbed our to go bags, got up from the table, and nearly fell as I was taking a step from the table. I almost slipped on some of the tea that I suppose didn’t all waste on my mother. I was livid at this point.

After the valet brought us our car, each of us decided to just go home. Our evening was ruined. We were minus $100. But we had a bad experience at the Cheesecake Factory added to our psyche.

The reason why I’m writing is because I am gravely disappointed in your management and staff at the Cheesecake Factory in The Woodlands, Texas.
Disappointed to the degree that I would actually sit down and write a letter… Something that I never do…

When a family decides to dine at the Cheesecake Factory, they are fully aware that they are getting ready to spend some money. But you decide that the experience, the food, and the service is worth the money that you’re going to spend. When you know that each person’s dinner, drinks, and dessert will be no less than $25 to
$40, you expect a great time. Well, at least I do, and I’m sure you too.

Honestly, I don’t feel like my $100 bought me a good time. It bought me good food. But my experience and service sucked. And what I do know is that the prices on the menu at the Cheesecake Factory not only includes the cost of the food, but also the cost of the service at the Cheesecake Factory, which I found to be appalling.
I think that the manager should have at least offered each of us desserts on the house. Each of us was inconvenienced by what the waiter did. Obviously, your management and staff felt like our satisfaction was not important. I presume that they don’t care if we never patronize your restaurant again. So sad…

FYI, I do expect to get a response from this letter. If I don’t, trust me, I’ll never eat at the Cheesecake Factory again. Plus, I will inform all of my friends, who come to the Cheesecake Factory and liberally spend their hard earned money, to not come to your restaurant. It will be clear to me if I don’t hear from someone in your guest relations how you truly feel about your customers, especially your disabled ones.

I thank you in advance for dealing with this matter in a reasonable fashion. I also thank you for considering diversity/disability awareness/sensitivity training for your staff. Trust me, they need it. I hope to hear from you soon.

Respectfully,

Angela L. Braden