Explaining The Cosmos: NOT a substitute for reading textbooks

15 Jun

The Lunch Business.

Lots of people write blogs. This is an established FACT. Not a fact, but a FACT. Y’see, FACTs are like facts except the emphasis isn’t on the truth of the matter, but the sheer force with which the point is hammered home, even if it turns out to be false. Here is an example for you to chew on: All unmarried men are batchelors. Fact. All unmarried men are weird loser stalkers who pose a medium-high threat to women with an inflated opinion of their own attractiveness. FACT. You see the distinction? As I said, lots of people write blogs, and that is a FACT, because whilst there are a lot of blogs out there (fact), a lot of them rely on stuff that they nick from elsewhere. As such, let me make it clear that this blog here only uses 100% fresh ingredients, all wholemeal and natural. Unlike a certain lunchtime meal provider. Oh yes, lot’s of people write blogs all right. Some of them even mention where they work. This is insane, stupid and wrong, you can get fired for talking about your work. Good thing, then, I’m talking about somewhere else. FACT.

So the lunchplace, then. Last week, I was persuaded by a flyer we’d got to pop in on the Wednesday to get a portion of the Lamb Dopiaza. Y’see, I love the Lamb Dopiaza. FACT. FACT, because I didn’t like this one. The irritating thing is that there wasn’t just the one thing that I could point to and say “It would be nice if it weren’t for that”, there wasn’t a single thing right about it. Not one thing. In fact, they could have given me a chocolate pudding, called it a Lamb Dopiaza and I would have been less offended. Here are the reasons why:

1) The price.

In these days of recession, a credit crunch and a general need for thriftiness, the place mentioned on this flyer would be the ideal place to go. After all, it’s cheaper than the high street, or so it seems? LOLNO. Nearly four pounds for…

2) The portion.

FUCK ALL. That’s right, £3.95 for next to fuck all. I don’t know whether it was because I asked for it in a tray to take away, but it literally was a half full medium chips box, with 80% rice and twenty percent “curry”.
Oh yeah, and a half cooked naan which looked ill. It looked like it had life, intelligence, and hated the sludge it was sitting on. It looked like it was dying of disappointment. It may well have been a small mirror, made of dough. That’s right…

3) The meal/snack/food/thing

What was served to me was not Dopiaza. Nope, it was more like a lamb stew with some exotic gravy poured on top of it. In fact, that’s exactly what it was. The previous week, I had noticed that this eatery were doing Chicken Jalfrezi as their curry of the week, and was surprised to see them selling fajitas without the tortillas. Upon interrogation, I discovered that the fajita chicken was in fact the curry, but “without the sauce”. Now, I realise that in most cafes the quality of the grub is meant to be questionable, as is the great British tradition. However, when the cafe in question passes itself off as a “restaurant”, it is undoubtedly a kick in the balls. With a hammer.

4) Bartering (or lack thereof)

Having seen what was dumped into a paper carton, I desperately tried to remember what I had been taught about Scots contract law. Was the curry fit for purpose? No, but I was in a rush. Was it as advertised? Sort of. It met the minimum requirements of what an idiot would call a curry. Was it in a satisfactory condition? Take a wild guess. So I did the only reasonable thing a short-changed punter would, and asked for a little bit more, in the phrase of the rhetorical question “Is that it?” OK, diplomacy not my strong point there, and the lady behind the servery wasn’t the sort of woman you’d mess with; she was short and Glaswegian. Bite worse than bark. This in mind, I went to pay for my food. The gentleman on the tills is a funny lad, dead talkative when he wants to be, and dead morose on other days. Today was a morose day – possibly on account of earlier complaints about food standards, I dunno. So he asks me what I have in my box, I explain it’s half a portion of Lamb Dopiaza. Rather than look puzzled or intrigued, rather than ask questions about this new portion I had myself been introduced to, he put it through as a whole portion of curry. Before I handed over the funds, I explained my misgivings at being charged full price for an insultingly short measure. No effect. Not only that, but he refused to give me details of whom to complain to, however he did in fairness point me in the direction of the suggestion box.

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Short and to the point, I’m sure you’ll agree.

I wish I could say that all of the above was true but hey, that just wouldn’t be a fact. Whilst it’s fair to say I was incredibly angry at the piss-poor food and service, I feel it’s unjust to leave you with the impression that this is a typical day in the da hood. No siree, I wouldn’t be so stupid to go somewhere I didn’t like just to be nasty – and usually the foods alright. Occasionally, I get the pizza which is nice, and sometimes the soup which in fairness is fantastic. In fact, it may even be a complement that I’ve gone to such lengths to highlight what was a one off. That, and I’ve taken great care, well, some effort to omit the name and location of the place. Legal reasons, y’see. The internet is a wonderful place but by god I don’t want to be sued again. I fear litigation more than the Belgians, and that says something. Peace out, and remember, don’t be a loser like your humble narrator, get a Pot Noodle for lunch. They’re cheap but they’re good.

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