Lovers, fighters, and those seeking good vibes, we know work can be hard, and that at the end of the day, all you want to do is be able to pick up your nooch-infused seitan love bowl without hassle. We also know that if you’re anything like us, you need some time to just sit in the car and decompress or fantasize about abandoning your family so you don’t scream at everyone when you walk through the door.
Being mindful about this as we are about everything else, we here at EveryVegan have decided to never have your order ready on time, no matter how hungry you might be. We vow to tell you one thing, but then always make you wait 20-30 minutes longer, even if it’s just one thing that would’ve taken us five minutes to do. It’s our personal goal to get you to bond with your family through the power of our incompetency.
The way it’ll work is simple: You’ll call us up to place your order. We’ll tell you it’ll be 30-40 minutes, providing you a specific time to pick up your order. When you arrive, you’ll be told it’ll actually be a few more minutes. You then have the option of standing there and watching our cooks lean back on the grill and talk or look at their phones, or going to your car, coming back a few minutes later, getting the same response, and watching the cooks laugh at you.
Here at EveryVegan, we believe it’s about the journey, not the destination. What better journey could there be than letting you be frustrated with us for a long time in your car so you don’t have to sit in the driveway at home? Think about how often you have to leave from work just to go to a meal you’re not mentally ready for, with someone you don’t know how to begin talking to. Thanks to our Teamster approach to cooking, you’ll be able to gripe about us to anyone, and even use words you always think but can’t say to describe our staff.
The grad student we hired to let you down previously worked as a Civil War reenactor in North Carolina. They kept the beard, period-authentic outfit, and rhotic accent, so that should give you plenty to complain about while you prepare to get your food and be loved by your family. If you really need something to get you from zero to ten, ask them how they like their job. They’ll be quick to scoff, correct you by saying “my role is not without its challenges and victories,” before explaining the deep backstory they’ve come up with for their “character.” If you’re not angry enough after that to call your partner and bond with them over the absurdity of this, then we’ll eat a bacon-filled omelette breakfast with real butter and toast.
As a sort of killswitch that’ll guarantee you storm into your house and communicate with your family, we’ll close our restaurant at 8 p.m. sharp, so if you get there at 7:30, there’s a very good chance your food will be locked inside while another person who is not you eats the food you paid for (we’re a vegan restaurant, so we’re still going to charge you just to keep the lights on). If you’d like, you may stand outside seething while one of our waitstaff eats your order in front of the “Vegans = Empaths” sign we’ve prominently hung.
We hope you can admire our ambition, even if it’ll inconvenience and probably humiliate you. We’ll be attaching comment cards with each order so that you can let us know how we’re doing. IF this all goes well, perhaps we’ll step it up and have our staff “forget” to hang up the phone when you call, so you can hear them mock you, getting that blood pressure up as you sail over to our restaurant for delicious food.
