Now, as is the norm at supershady bars, where no attention is paid to either the hygiene, the quality of service, the quality of food or the quality of its visiting guests, there is a sloppily dressed guy who just walks over to your table and asks you what you want.
None of the politeness associated with a place where you have to pay extra service tax. No waiter curtsying you or fawning over your every idiosyncratic need. Just plain vanilla service where you are asked what you want, and then you get it – sometimes brought with exceeding politeness, and then with customary disdain once you have crossed the inebriation threshold when they feel that it will not matter how they treat you so long as they keep the alcohol flowing.
In these circumstances, it always pays to know how much you’ve had and to keep tabs on it so that they do not hoodwink you at the end of the session you’ve had.
Back to the story, imagine you go sit in the only section where space is available, and wait patiently for about five minutes after which the waiter arrives. You decide with your friend about what you guys would like to order because you are exceedingly hungry and your friend isn’t. You also have to keep in mind that the movie you’ve purchased tickets for is about to start in less than thirty five minutes, and consequently, time is of the essence.
You then give out a final order to the waiter, ensuring that you talk in the vernacular to give him an indication of the fact that you are a local boy and not one of those other people that have come to ‘spoil‘ the city from places further away from the equator towards the Arctic circle, within the confines of our country itself. You also hope that by giving him enough indications of your being local, that you can curry favours with him and have him serve you faster than if you weren’t one (Although it might also work the other way when he takes you for granted cause he can do so. You’re one of his clan after all!).
Once you give him the order, he looks at you squarely in the eye and says – ‘Boss, this area has extra charge for the service, drinks and food will be costlier here. I would suggest you go downstairs and sit there.‘
Imagine your surprise when someone tells you this, when you’re (presumably) dressed decently and speak to him politely. It is true that he was doing a good turn by giving you the information that he did, but the very fact that he thought of you as someone who is a cheap guy is both heartening as well as a tad disturbing at the same time!
This actually happened yesterday before my friend and I were to watch National Treasure: Book of Secrets. You needn’t be even remotely intelligent to actually figure that out!
However, you’d be better off not being even remotely intelligent if you have to watch the sequel to National Treasure AND enjoy it at the same time. I would like to write about the movie and abuse it, but I feel that the efforts to do so are as colossal a waste of time as actually watching the movie, and I would like to think that I learn from my mistakes.
If you thought National Treasure : Book of Secrets was good – may the almighty have mercy on your soul.
PS – considering how many ‘cheap guy’ references I am making, I think I should start using that tag with posts. The only problem would be that EACH post of mine would be tagged so.
