Excessive Language

It is painfully obvious that I have become a “Sally” when I order food. Remember the deli scene in “When Harry Met Sally?”  I also do other things she did well in that movie but not publically.  At the ripe old age of 38 the number of things I do not eat far exceeds the things I do.  And unlike every other woman on the planet I’d like to gain weight. I have had to cut so many things from my diet that I have now welcomed pork with open arms.  I know, shocking.  (I’ll deal with God when I’ve gained a few pounds.)

In an attempt to gain a few pounds I went out to order lunch at a Faux French Bistro in Culver City. My lunch turned out to be quite bizarre.  I say bizarre because in French they don’t say something is weird, it’s bizarre!  Furthermore, the French way of saying bizarre is so great it’s more like bIZZZZZaire.  We call French the language of Love. I would call French the language of hearing where as English is the language of seeing.  Ok I’ll save my obscure thoughts on this for another Blog.

By the time I entered the Bistro I had already noticed some excessive signage in the garage; “This door is now locked due to a request by the health department.”  OK?  Then as I attempt to order at the take out counter I am told I may not make substitutions I may only remove items from my order.  However if I want to have table service I may then make substitutions.  What?

I decide to cut my losses at this point order a steak salad that turned out to be pile of spinach and a pile of steak after I had “removed” all the things I cannot eat.  I also order a tea while I am waiting.  As I am adding honey to my tea I notice a note on the bottle “caution cap loose” and yet I still squeeze too hard and have a mountain of honey in my tea. Again, what? A plastic honey bottle is like a dollar. 

After my tea is completely ruined I choose to use the ladies room.  Which has the following sign on the door, “Be aware the lock is broken.  We are in the processes of fixing it. Thank you for your understanding.”  Now I could have been French and said, “C'est la vie” but I chose to say in clear English,  “You could have fixed the damn door in the time it took you to write that ridiculous sign!”