November 7, 2018

Food for Thought

If I were a restaurant (which is different from if I owned a restaurant), it would probably be like this restaurant.

his is not an inviting place. From outside, it’s even a bit intimidating—I worried that they might feel annoyed by me going in. On Google Maps, there are only 8 photos and most of them are by the same white guy, which made me a bit more comfortable with the idea of going in. If I dined there on a regular basis, I would probably meet this man. (The place is not listed on Yelp.) Once I sat down, they were very friendly.

Only about half of the items on the menu were translated, so, my choices were immediately cut in half. But that’s fine; I don’t like choices anyway. I wonder, however, what the criteria is for leaving them untranslated. Do they think I wouldn’t be interested in eating them? Or, they simply didn’t know the English words?

Despite the fact that they couldn’t be bothered to translate all the menu items, the waitress spoke fluent English. An old lady came out of the kitchen with a cup of soup and tried to offer it to me, but the waitress stopped her and said in English I wouldn’t want it. The old lady kept looking back at me as she retreated back into the kitchen. What the hell was that soup? Why did she want me to have it?

The fact that they serve beer and that their only choice is Heineken is equally puzzling.

There is obviously much to be discovered about this nondescript Chinese restaurant. I might become a regular there and compete on Google Maps with that white guy.

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