Dear Alliance Française, New Delhi,
I don't know if you've seen Greenberg. It's a movie in which Ben Stiller plays a carpenter cum recovering schizophrenic house sitting his brother's mansion in LA and looking after his brother's dog, a German Shepherd called Mahler, while his brother and family vacation in Vietnam.
To entertain/ distract/ keep from shooting himself, Greenberg writes letters of disgruntlement to Starbucks and, I googled this, to Hollywood Pet Taxi.
Nobody wants Greenberg's life.
Today, I was sitting in your cafe when I had a Greenberg moment. There I was pecking with my fork at your day's special, the penne pasta in red sauce, the noodles and chilli chicken and the honey chilli potatoes, and thinking, what parallels can I draw? What was your food tasting like? Why didn't I like it? What was so wrong? Why did I come here ? What is with your red sauce tasting like sambhar and detergent and vinegar?
I wanted you to know I'm never coming back, not with expectations. I'll give you the cold coffee, which the second time around, the guy made just as I told him I like it -- less sugar, crushed ice, more coffee. Other than which, your Max Caterers people need to up their ante, their socks, and maybe call in the proof readers, the spell checkers, the army, for at a language school especially, 'baby fitters' priced at anything is a bad joke.
Thanking you,
Just some visitor chick who can't speak french but has taste buds and wanted to get this out of her system.
P.S: Chilli chicken isn't tandoori chicken with ketchup on it.
I don't know if you've seen Greenberg. It's a movie in which Ben Stiller plays a carpenter cum recovering schizophrenic house sitting his brother's mansion in LA and looking after his brother's dog, a German Shepherd called Mahler, while his brother and family vacation in Vietnam.
To entertain/ distract/ keep from shooting himself, Greenberg writes letters of disgruntlement to Starbucks and, I googled this, to Hollywood Pet Taxi.
Nobody wants Greenberg's life.
Today, I was sitting in your cafe when I had a Greenberg moment. There I was pecking with my fork at your day's special, the penne pasta in red sauce, the noodles and chilli chicken and the honey chilli potatoes, and thinking, what parallels can I draw? What was your food tasting like? Why didn't I like it? What was so wrong? Why did I come here ? What is with your red sauce tasting like sambhar and detergent and vinegar?
I wanted you to know I'm never coming back, not with expectations. I'll give you the cold coffee, which the second time around, the guy made just as I told him I like it -- less sugar, crushed ice, more coffee. Other than which, your Max Caterers people need to up their ante, their socks, and maybe call in the proof readers, the spell checkers, the army, for at a language school especially, 'baby fitters' priced at anything is a bad joke.
Thanking you,
Just some visitor chick who can't speak french but has taste buds and wanted to get this out of her system.
P.S: Chilli chicken isn't tandoori chicken with ketchup on it.
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2 comments:
Horrible, yes, but it beats the hell out of sitting in an office all day. Take my word for it, blessed one.
Baby Fitters? I lost my appetite at the thought of it.
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