Our U Wink screen:
Yes, we went back to UWink at the urging of Isa and her friend. This time we brought Tomi, whose gorgeousness and single status would bring good fortune to our table. I posted earlier about a prior visit and subsequent UWink investor’s comments. The investor commented on the fact the ladies having fun would bring me out of my negative funk to have fun as well.
Ok! This time I was going to have fun.
I tried to tell the waiter that we’d been there before, but Tomi objected; not knowing the ‘training’ to use the computer would take a solid twenty minutes. Three minutes in she realized she made a mistake, but there was no stopping the waiter at this point. “See where the picture of the drink is? Okay, so if you want a drink you press on that. You want a cocktail? Okay, then we need to press where it says “Cocktails.” And on. And on. “I was a computer programmer for years, ” I protested. “Plus, anyone who has ever waitressed since the 90’s is going to know how to use a touch-screen ordering system.”
The waiter looked hurt.
The kids had already ordered while we were receiving our training.
Finally I could order my drink. We noticed a man under the table next to us, arms filled with wires: a repairman. There was also a raucous crowd in the back, drinking beers and yelling out answers.
We found out very quickly that they had changed the system. They now give “credits” for food purchased that go toward the games, which aren’t free anymore. I thought to myself, well, that’s understandable, you can’t have people nursing a coke and playing How To Be a Millionaire all day can you?
Isa and her friend ran out of credits within five minutes.
Tomi helpfully swiped her card to buy them ten dollars worth of credits, and six minutes later they were begging again for more. They were also asking to shop at the ‘virtual store’ for stuffed animals and other items like pink digital cameras. Tomi and I went over to their (greasy) screens to investigate their desperation. Turns out they weren’t playing just games, but they were playing games to win prizes (such as the aforementioned cheap made-you-know-where crap) and these games took a lot more credits to play.
At that point, we heard a loud pop and our screens went dark. A collective groan emanated from the party in the back. Other tables were still happily poking away at the screens. “Maybe the computer has lost our order and we’ll get a free meal,” I thought, and the server moved us to a new table. Within a few swipes, Tomi’s name and yes, our tab were waiting for us.
We let the kids each get a stuffed animal and one outfit, because in ten minutes there was going to be a restaurant-wide trivia game, and Tomi and I were feeling like a good team. Also, I knew that buying the bears was going to be a lot cheaper than the kids trying to win them. (I can say this because I consider myself to be excellent at both Chuzzle and Bejeweled I and II and there were games similar to that and I couldn’t even get close to winning a keychain.)
In the meanwhile, our food came, and we weren’t the best at not duplicating orders, so I requested assistance.
“Sarah” won the trivia game. We knew this because it was blasted on the giant screen. “Who is Sarah?” Tomi and I yelled, and right behind us a mousy woman with long brown hair and glasses cheerfully raised her coke to us.
We got more credits and were determined to beat Sarah.
She won the next game and the next. How did she know so much about sports? All the other players were pretty drunk so they were easy to beat. But Sarah, sitting there drinking coke and nibbling on a fry, was not going to waver. Tomi and I decided to come back again, without the kids, and win the trivia contest.
We got the bill.
$270.
Jack Silbert, curator