Estimated reading time: 3 minutes
So it seems like every time we turn around, another beloved restaurant has slapped a For Lease sign on the door and saddled off into the sunset of corporate despair. I mean, someone’s got to explain to me how all these places to eat are disappearing faster than my sanity in a political debate. And who’s at the chopping block now? None other than the champions of the Cheddar Bay Biscuit, Red Lobster.
Now, folks, let’s get real. If Red Lobster’s on the rocks, what hope do the rest of them have? I swear, it’s like a bad episode of Survivor: Restaurant Edition. One day you’re dipping your lobster tail into butter, and the next day you’re standing outside wondering why there’s suddenly a craft store where your buffet used to be.
What’s the deal? Well, every article I skimmed while pretending to work tells me it’s a cocktail of rising costs, fewer customers, and apparently, a lack of pirates who are interested in seafood anymore. Who knew Johnny Depp had that much influence?
This isn’t just about missing out on seafood. No, it’s much bigger. It’s about the death of the dining experience as we know it. What are we supposed to do now, cook? Look, the microwave and I have a very understanding relationship: I don’t ask it to do much, and it doesn’t judge me. Now you’re telling me I might have to use an actual stove? This must be a joke.
But it’s not just Red Lobster waving goodbye with its little clawed hand. Oh no, this is a massive garage sale of closures. From the corner diner where you first learned how to drink coffee without wincing, to that Italian place that knew your garlic bread addiction by heart, they’re all fading away like my dreams of a peaceful retirement.
And who are we replacing these culinary sanctuaries with? Let’s take a wild guess… Yep, you’ve got it – another bank. Because, sure, that’s what we need: more places to stew in line and contemplate our life choices while waiting to chat with a teller about why there’s never enough money in our account.
Let’s pour out a little lobster sauce for our fallen comrades. This isn’t just about a few places closing down. This is symbolic, a metaphor for our changing times. Restaurants are the backdrop to our lives—first dates, anniversaries, bribing your kid with dessert so they’ll finally stop screaming. What’s next? Celebrating your anniversary at the self-checkout in the supermarket?
Don’t even get me started on the alternatives. What, food trucks? I don’t want to chase my dinner down the street, panting and wheezing, only to be handed a taco that’s seen more of the city than I have. I want to sit down, dammit. I want to complain about the table being wobbly and make awkward eye contact with the waiter.
In conclusion, if this is the future of dining, then you can count me out. I didn’t sign up for this dystopian cafeteria they’re trying to pass off as modern eating. I want plates, not pixels; servers, not screens; and for the love of all that is holy, keep the banks away from my brownies.
Source: Red Lobster Are Not the Only Restaurants Closing Down
