I had to go get my paycheck today (actually, it wasn't even a paycheck, but an envelope filled with cash - welcome to the 21st century). On my way back I decided to treat myself to something special and check out this posh restaurant in my neighborhood. For some reason at first the waiting staff stared at me like I was some sort of alien, so I felt a bit self-conscious. Once I actually ordered my food though, they seemed to relax - probably taking that for sufficient proof that I wasn't there just to take a dump in their fish tank, or something. Anyway, I was bored, and didn't have a book with me, so I started browsing some fancy-shmancy brochure about their selection of teas. It was bilingual (Polish and English), and in addition to some rather hilarious discrepancies between the two versions, it also sported several outright errors in the Polish bits.
As I was leaving, something came over me and I approached a waitress, smiled politely, and said: "Excuse me, I know this is completely out of the blue, but there are several gramatical errors in that leaflet you have on the table. Just in case anyone ever wanted to correct them..." The girl's face immediately went OMG ALIEN!, and her friend started giggling nervously, so I decided it's probably best not to mention there's also a typo in their greeting card, smiled again, nodded good-bye, and walked out.
I left the restaurant wondering what the hell I was thinking, but also nursing a not entirely unpleasant impression of having completed some sort of cycle.
As I was leaving, something came over me and I approached a waitress, smiled politely, and said: "Excuse me, I know this is completely out of the blue, but there are several gramatical errors in that leaflet you have on the table. Just in case anyone ever wanted to correct them..." The girl's face immediately went OMG ALIEN!, and her friend started giggling nervously, so I decided it's probably best not to mention there's also a typo in their greeting card, smiled again, nodded good-bye, and walked out.
I left the restaurant wondering what the hell I was thinking, but also nursing a not entirely unpleasant impression of having completed some sort of cycle.
6 comments:
I've actually considered having a card printed up for the sole purpose of carrying it around and bestowing it upon proprietors of restaurants whose menus feature minor linguistic misdemeanors and outright felonies. It would have this big heading in Helvetica that would read: “Pardon me, but your English blows.”
The thing was, their POLISH sucked :)
I've decided to do that whenever I feel like I should. I.e. almoast always, unless it's an obscure little place in a middle of nowhere, cause that's part of the folklore and it should be preserved for the sake of occasional Cheese Celebration.
A restaurant in Warsaw? I'd do that in a heartbeat. So far reactions are 50-50, but I cherish this very nice and thankful email (with a bonus: no shipping cost for me, said the nice lady) from the online sofa slip store.
Paiv takes pics of Inglisz signs and menus for our buddy. Me, I stopped carrying a red pen 'cause I was wearing that bastard out.
The real question, though: was the food any good?
Pretty good, but nothing to write home about :)
hey, dont stop the signal.
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