Lucille’s BBQ in Cerritos: A Thanksgiving Day Comedy of Errors
I did the responsible, grown-up thing —
But — I think the Soup Nazi showed up at Lucille’s BBQ in Cerritos on Thanksgiving Day.
Three weeks before Thanksgiving, I made reservations at Lucille’s BBQ in Cerritos. A traditional turkey dinner with my wife and two youngest kids—no cooking, no dishes, no stress. Just turkey, gravy, and the sweet satisfaction of beating the holiday chaos.
Except… chaos beat me.
I arrived at 6:25 PM—five minutes early—feeling like a Thanksgiving champion. The place was jam-packed, wall-to-wall humans. It was the kind of crowd you’d expect at a Black Friday sale, not for dinner reservations. But hey, I had a reservation. I was untouchable.
Protected.
Shielded by the sacred power of planning…and calling ahead.
Or so I thought.
The host looked at me with the emotional investment of someone reading terms & conditions aloud. She said, “It’ll be about an hour wait for reservations.”
An hour.
For reservations.
Apparently, Lucille’s decided Thanksgiving was an all-skate: reservations, walk-ins, everybody welcome, first come, first served, who cares? The reservation didn’t reserve anything. It was just a fancy way of saying, “You’re in the same line as the walk-ins, but with hope.”
I stood there listening to reservation holders get the same copy-and-paste sympathy speech:
“We’re a little behind.”
“It’ll just be a few.”
“We appreciate your patience.”
Translation: *We gave your turkey to the people who showed up hungry at 4 PM.*
I felt like I’d wandered into a real-life Seinfeld episode. Jerry’s car rental fiasco played in my head:
“You know how to take reservations. You just don’t know how to hold reservations. And that’s really the most important part of the reservation!”
Then comes the kicker.
Fifteen minutes into the wait, the Head Greeter walks by and casually drops the bomb:
“We’re out of turkey.”
Out of turkey.
On Thanksgiving Day.
You can’t script this stuff. Again, I felt like I was in another Seinfeld episode.
I wasn’t even angry—I was impressed. How do you run out of turkey on the one day of the year your customers want one thing? Oh wait—because they fed the walk-ins turkey all day long.
So there I was on Thanksgiving Day, reservation in hand, turkey-less in Cerritos.
Once seated, things didn’t exactly turn around. Our server, clearly overwhelmed, encouraged us to “Order quickly because the kitchen is very busy.” Yes. I imagine kitchens get busy in restaurants. It’s kind of the whole business model.
My wife’s chicken salad arrived looking like it had survived a house fire. The chicken was so charred it tasted bitter. My beer took an eternity. The “famous” biscuits took fifteen minutes to materialize, which is impressive considering they’re literally bread.
In the end, the only thing traditional about my Thanksgiving dinner was the disappointment.
So… will I be returning to Lucille’s in Cerritos for another holiday meal?
Not a chance.
Next year, I’ll just show up as a walk-in—apparently, the only people guaranteed turkey.