Chez Rainforest…not

Last month I went to a conference that happened to be in Anaheim, just a mile or so away from Disneyland. So I took the family along and we went on a giant California trip. I’ll post another article with pics and some info on our trip soon, but today’s post is about our unique experience we had with a certain “destination” restaurant chain.

On our last day in Anaheim, we walked through “Downtown Disney” in search of some lunch. I thought it would be fun for the kids to go to the Rainforest Cafe, having been there years ago. To be fair, it is a very well-put-together restaurant, decorated like a jungle sorry, rainforest, complete with animatronic apes and elephants, fake thunder and lightning every 15 minutes or so, and some really gorgeous saltwater fishtanks. However, I was soon to discover how they finance this wondrous experience.

Rainforest Cafe in Anaheim

To begin with, you have to get a ticket at the front of the restaurant, and they tell you there’s a 10-15 minute wait, and they’ll call your name when it’s ready. No problem.

Hey! Whaddya know, there’s a ginormous gift shop for you to browse through while waiting to be seated. All manner of cheap plastic animals and Rainforest Cafe swag are there for purchase, or at least for your kids to nag you about for 10-15 minutes.

So they call our name, and we are seated. Once inside the jungle I notice fairly quickly that there was no need for the 10-15 minute wait, since there are a plethora of empty tables around. Oh wait, yes there was…they needed me to browse their shop for 10-15 minutes before being seated. Oh well, I think. Just some clever marketing. Well played! Next we get the menus; typical family restaurant fare — wraps, sandwiches, various grilled meats, etc. as well as the “Kids menu”. So we order our stuff, and the kids order the bits from the kids menu like we normally do in family restaurants. We splurged on a few things; Amelia wanted an Icee in a keepsake cup and Alec ordered a side of fries when we were’nt paying attention. Fine, we’re on vacation. We’ll splurge this time.

Now the bill comes. It’s like 75 bucks. $75!! How in the h&!! did I spend $75 for lunch for 5 people, 3 of which are under the age of 12??!! I look at the bill and see how it works. Mary and I’s entrees were about $12-15 each, which we expected. The culprit? The kids meals! Apparently we, naive travelers that we are, assumed that the kids’ meal prices were inclusive of a drink and side dish, like most normal restaurants who have kids meals would have. Not so. The kid’s meal Mac-n-cheese is $5. Oh, you want a glass of milk too? That’s another $4.50. You want fries or some fruit with it? OK, that’s another 6 bucks or so. So it ends up that each of the 3 kids meals ends up being about as much as the “grownup” entrees. Thus a $75 meal, and a couple of really pissed off parents.

But again, we’re on vacation, so we move on, don’t want to gripe too much and spoil the mood for the kids. Now comes part 2. The next part of our California excursion was to drive north to San Francisco and stay there for a couple days. We had a blast in S.F., I highly recommend it. So we get to our hotel, which is just a block south of Fisherman’s Wharf, a great location. We arrived in the late afternoon, and after we got settled into the hotel it was time to find some dinner. So we walk around the corner and lo and behold, what should we find, but another Rainforest Cafe! What a coincidence, right? However, today is Wednesday, and there is a big sign out front saying, “Wednesday kids eat free!” Sweet! You won yesterday, Rainforest Cafe, but I have you now. Today you can’t gouge me with your kids meal, because today is Wednesday, and it clearly states that kids eat free on Wednesday!  Besides, the kids weren’t up for the crab boils and other good food that was available at fisherman’s wharf, and we were not going to eat at Burger King on fisherman’s wharf just on principle, so we went for round 2 of the “Cafe”.

This time we’re wise to the scheme, and all goes as planned. The kids order their meals, (which are free), we don’t worry about the $5 “kid’s side dishes” and everyone drinks water. Things are going swimmingly. Then I spot this lady walk into the dining room with a sort of earth mother/flower fairy costume on,  a painted face, and rolling a tall box decorated with multicolored balloons. I quickly gather that she’s some type of balloon sculptor/entertainer/street performer, and she’s making the rounds INSIDE THE RESTAURANT. Now my wallet is still sore from yesterday’s thrashing, so I’m feeling a little edgy. Mary and I look at each other and she says what I’m already thinking: “No. We’re going to tell her ‘No thank you.’” She gets to our table, and, sensing my cold reception and steely resolve, immediately bends down and begins to talk with our 6-year-old daughter, Olivia.

Balloon lady: What’s your name?

Olivia: Olivia! (who, of course, is very enthusiastic about this development)

Balloon lady: Do you like balloons?

Olivia: Yeah!

Balloon lady: Olivia, do you like butterflies? (She knows her market, doesn’t she?)

Olivia: Yes!

Now this is clearly a punch below the belt. She doesn’t flinch, doesn’t look at me or Mary the entire time. She can sense the glare. To add to the experience, she seems a bit off. As she is busily constructing this butterfly, she begins a weird impromptu rhyming tirade,  beginning each sentence with “And Olivia…” as in: “And Olivia, it’s true! This magical butterfly is coming just for you!” That was one of the better ones. To her credit, she did make a pretty nice butterfly, it even had antennae. Here’s a pretty good representation I found on the web, only ours didn’t have the cute face drawn on:

balloon butterfly

Once she finished, I smiled through gritted teeth and said “Thank you.” I’m still not ponying up any cash, lady. Upon which she rattles off a well-rehearsed rhyme about how the restaurant lets her come in and do her entertaining, but they don’t pay her, blah, blah blah.  Her hand comes out, I give her $2. Two more dollars than she should have got, I grudgingly think to myself.

I suppose she was just trying to make a living, but now I know why Wednesday night kids eat free. Touché, Rainforest Cafe! I still managed to get out of there with a bill under $30, which I count as a small victory. The butterfly, however, didn’t make it to see the next day. Grrr…