Sunday, November 01, 2009

un appreciated adventures

Episode 2:

Again I was sitting at table, relaxing, inhaling the evening air, watching the people, bla bla bla. Still insisting (uselessly) that salads have less calories than normal plates , I had ordered a salad. Now this salad had floors/storeys. At this point I was only able to see and inspect the topmost layer, which, believe me, looked delcious. Further inspections showed that it also TASTED delicious, this top floor. But curiosity made the cat want to differ, and so I innocently delved into the next floor, mixed salad.

It went something like this:

*munch* *munch* *munch* *CRUNCH* *munch*.

My mind quickly recalled the list of supposed ingredients of this salad, and none was supposted to CRUNCH. A shiver ran down my spine as a very long array of possible producers of this CRUNCH now flashed very clearly. Finally I simply blamed my imagination and proceded to intaking another lot.

This time, it went something like this:

* CRUNCH* *muCRUNCH* *CRUNCH* *CRUNCH*.

yukk. I spit it out. It felt like sand, but there was nothing in there. I could se nothing that remotely looked like sand. And no, it wasn't a particularly hard time of ground pepper. It didn't taste like pepper.

What does one do in such occasions. Drop the fork and stop eating. No I didn't complain, even though I should have because I just wanted to leave.

Again, no gran Finale.

un appreciated adventures

Episode 1:

Was sitting at table, eating, enjoying a calm afternoon and relaxing while a slow hussle and busstle of customers came and went. All was next to perfect until my gaze fell on something black that could have easily been mistaken for a pattern on the tiles hadn't:

a) the tiles been completely white
b) the thing been proud owner of 6 legs
c) the said thing been moving

Mr. C was taking a stroll because like me, he seemed to enjoy the lovely afternoon-turning-into-night air. It moved around casually, admiring what was offered for dinner, artfully avoiding feet and obviously giving that extra attention to me.. by now turned completely green. Because, I was not only faced with the fear of a very fast, unpredictable, huge, black insect but also with the fear of the food I was eating. The reason being very obvious: Mr. C. had made his grand entrance through the kitchen door, the place were my up-until-a-few-minutes-before delicious plate was prepared!

From here, the most logic thing to make.. raise your frightened finger and bring Mr. C. to the attention of a waiter. For an extra precaution I added a "squash it" with the logical "There's a cockroach over there." The waiter, most politely, knodded and walked off. Incredibly not coming back. By this time me and Mr. C. had put aside all differnces (except that where his feet were fixed on the ground, and mine were skillfully raised at a safe height), put aside all formalities and were on personal basis.

Don't expect a climax other than our exchanging email address, because there isn't going to be one. The waiter continued busying himself with the customers and ignoring Mr. C. I stood, paid and walked out.

*Fullstop, start a new line*