Today I went to the Campus Restaurant where I usually take my meals because the food at the Visitor's Hostel is pretty unhealthy and is often runs 30 minutes late. Anyway, in my never-ending quest to eat healthy in India, I decided to order the half salad. I was expecting something, you know, green, leafy, something on which you could put salad dressing, but no. Instead, I got a plate with 11 (yes, I counted) slices of red onion, two things that may or may not have been string beans before they were desiccated beyond recognition, and a slice of lemon (the lemon was a really nice touch). Unfortunately, the waiter didn't speak English, and more unfortunately, I didn't know how to say "Are you fucking kidding me?" in Hindi. I think that this could be a phrase worth learning, as I would have already found it valuable in a number of situations. On one hand, it doesn't seem worth arguing about because the "half salad" only cost 30 cents, but on the other hand, I have this funny feeling that the guys in the back were messing with me because that was not what my labmates got when they ordered salads from the Restaurant (Maybe they ordered the full salad?):
"Hey Sanjay, the pudgy white kid is here again."
"Oh yeah, what does he want this time?"
"Get this -- he wants the half salad."
"Oh yeah? We'll he's going to get the one-sixteenth salad! That'll make him lose some weight."
Seriously, when I go to the Restaurant midday, I often get poor service. For example, the other day, the waiter pushed the bill towards me three times as if I didn't notice it or wasn't going to pay it. Then he stood over me and watched me while I calculated his tip. In the evening, I always have the same waiter (who doesn't get there until 4pm or so) and he treats me well, but I really feel like the lunch staff has it in for me.
Posted by Michael at June 23, 2004 07:30 AM