That's right – Chili's is no more.
Our fates must have been linked. Today, I was sitting around thinking up a change of pace for my Sunday evening eats, and I realized I hadn't been to Chili's in ages. So I hitched up my wagon train, rustled up a friend, and got down there.
And found the mood kind of...depressing. The servers were unfamiliar (understandable after nearly a year) and seemed like they didn't know what they were doing. It was pretty noticeable after the stellar food and service I'd remembered from here. And then we found out the reason: Chili's is closing.
Yep, after being one of the few to enter Korea in the early/mid-1990's (Chili's came into Korea in 1997), Chili's is packing it up, a casualty of the ongoing, monumental battle to the death between TGI Friday's and Outback, which I think the latter franchise is winning – and not by quality, by the way, but rather by sheer attrition. Have you seen the sheer amount of Outbacks that they'll stick just about anywhere nowadays? I swear they're gonna make Outback 포장마차 (street stands) soon, handing out bread, slinging Orangeades, and serving overpriced pasta to eager passersby.
The manager, with whom I spoke after finding out the grim news, told me that their second 5-year contract had ended, and since the trend is heading for Korean dishes and "family restaurants" in Korea, the company managing the restaurant had decided to call the game. And with a competitor as cutthroat as Outback ("Outback vs. Outback," indeed!), wouldn't you dust yourself off and go home?
And after hearing the explanation about how Outbacks expand here – apparently the franchise and establishment fees come out of an existing Outback such that each one founds the next, sorta like cell division – I suddenly understood why there are so many Outbacks in so many unlikely places, while TGI Fridays generally stick to ritzy areas with lots of young foot traffic. They're like the Borg, dude.
The manager wasn't able to give me any cool souvenirs, since they have to destroy all the Chili's paraphernalia while documenting it on camera, and send the proof back to the mothership back in the US. Bummer. But I must say, I had my share of good times here, and some damn good daiquiris. I'm a lightweight; so sue me.
Anyway, good bye, good-ass Cobb salad; goodbye to the only country-fried chicken you can get in Korea; and a final goodbye to "southwestern eggrolls," whatever the hell those were – even though they were pretty good.
Man, I shoulda taken a picture of my meal, and ordered a real margarita. Damn.
"There...is...another," said the manager, before he went away; yet, it's kind of a false hope, since the "other Chili's" is inside the Osan Air Force Base. That's doesn't help me much, since I don't get down to Osan much, and I don't think wearing a short skirt and waiting outside the gate is going to get me in, nor would the exercise be worth a mere peppercorn cheddar burger.
So, it's a melancholy Sunday. I guess I'll have to get back to my habit of having high hopes for the Outback "Blooming Onion," but realizing 1/3 of the way through it that it is a truly disgusting dish. I guess I just like the idea of it. How do they make those things, anyway?
I'll just end this post by exclaiming, in a mixture of dejection, defeat, and exasperation, "Damn you, Outbacks! Damn you all to Hell!!!!!!!!!!"
In my mind, I'm kneeling naked on the beach, pounding my hands uselessly into the sand. Except that I'm looking at a huge statue of an overly-cheery Outback server, holding one of those dry-ass, brown bread rolls they serve under her arm. And she winks down at me every three minutes, smiling as she asks whether I'm enjoying my meal, twisting the knife a bit more. She looks very pleased with herself and all her fucking "flair."
"You know, the Nazis had flair," a wise man once said.
Damn right they did.
Bastards.
