Is It Even That Good?

Hubby and I went to The Cheesecake Factory for dinner tonight, and I was forced to ask myself this question, as I usually do, when I go to this place.

Going to the Cheesecake Factory (or, as I affectionately like to refer to it, The Buttcake Factory, because that's where the cheesecake goes after it's been consumed - right to my butt) is something of a project.

First, I make the call from home to find out how long the wait is. This question is usually met by the answer, "Oh, we can seat you sometime next week." Realistically, on a Friday night, the wait for two people is more like 55-70 minutes. SIGH.
Ok, so then we get in the car and drive there. Usually Hubby will drop me off at the door. I'll go inside, and wait on line with the rest of the cattle to leave my name and get a pager. Sometimes, there are no pagers left, and the hostess tells me to come back in an hour for a pager. That is when Hubby and I go elsewhere for dinner. Tonight must have been our lucky night, because there were pagers available. So I'll get the pager, and then, despite the warning that "it only works in the restaurant," I'll go outside, get back in the car, and Hubby and I go to do some errands. Today we went to Target. I heart Target.

After about an hour, we head back to The Buttcake. Now nearly all of our wait time has elapsed. Hubby will approach the hostess and ask her how much time until we are seated. She'll usually respond that we are among the next to be seated. Somehow, this seems like a load of crap because everyone and their mother appears to get seated, while we're still waiting. Now I usually start to get upset. I'm usually so hungry at this point that I contemplate approaching a table of people that look like they're done eating for the most part and asking, "You're not going to finish that, are you?" and proceed to pick food off of that patron's plate. Nothing crazy like a steak, but maybe a couple of French fries.

FINALLY the pager will ring, and there is a momentary feeling of elation and glee as I feel that Hubby and I are the lucky, privileged ones to be seated among the menagerie of others waiting.
As I approach the counter to return my pager and be seated, I can't help but almost gloat at the others who are just leaving their names. I'm thinking, "yea....that's right....YOU have to wait now, but I am going to be seated....heh heh heh." Nevermind the fact that I waited an eternity for this table.

And here's the other distressing thing about The Buttcake. Once you forfeit your pager, you're directed to another area to wait again, this time for someone to take you to your table. It's almost like a doctor's office!

Finally, when Hubby and I are seated and enjoying the food (which is good), I can't help but wonder if it's the food that is genuinely good, or if it's just that we worked so hard to finally get to eat it that makes us subconsciously convince ourselves of its worthiness.