My in-laws recently treated my husband and I to a meal at our local Texas Roadhouse. It was Mother’s Day, so the place was packed, but that’s hardly unusual; in our modest Iowan city, there isn’t much selection as far as restaurants go, so the decent ones have a tendency to fill up quickly on weekends.
The atmosphere was absolutely chaotic. For one thing, Texas Roadhouse
is famous for its plethora of crushed peanuts on the floor. I don’t know whom that’s supposed to amuse, but I find it absolutely disgusting. There are massive barrels of peanuts everywhere; the peanut shells form a repulsive crunchy carpet on the floor. It doesn’t really fit my idea of a nice restaurant.
The servers are insane - they rush back and forth between the narrow ...
