May 07, 2006

Grilled, sir?

It’s Thursday evening. The One walks into the local outlet of a sandwich chain. He is Majorly Hungry.

"Hello, sir. How can I help you, sir?"

[He is very pleased at being referred to as ‘sir’. Twice, too.] "Can I have one of those, please?" [points to large, healthy-looking sandwich]

"Certainly. What sort of bread would you like, sir?"

"Huh?" [note the poise, the skilful articulation]

"Would that be Honey Rolled Oat, Monterey Cheddar, Parmesan Oregano, or Hearty Italian sir?"

"Erm." [Valiantly attempts to give general impression of ruminating on the qualities of Hearty Italian vis-à-vis Monterey Cheddar, attempting to conceal the fact that his culinary knowledge begins and ends at the Gujarati Thali. Perhaps Monterey Cheddar tastes like overcooked khandvi.]

"Honey Rolled Oat bread for you, sir?"

"Yes. Honey Rolled Oat, please."

"Which sauce would you like, sir?"


"Would that be the Red Wine Vinaigrette, Spicy Mexican Chipotle or Delicious Honey Mustard sir?"

"Erm. The wine thing." [If it’s alcoholic, it can’t be that bad.]

Maybe they should call people inside in batches of four, make you sit in a big black chair while you order, and give you a two-minute time limit. After you’re done ordering, maybe a voice-over could say, "And at the end of that round, O haggard geek-type person, you have scored no points at all. Thank you very much!" *polite applause*


Primalsoup said...

There is this ad on air these days, for some Kotak Investments Blah - which has a similar sort of theme. Except that, in the ad it is coffee! Now life is imitating advertising also?! There is hope yet! :)

But it is most tragic that this whole-customizing-for-king-customer business is not working as intended. Another marketing myth destroyed. Sheesh!

Though the worst thing to happen is when you walk into a restaurant and are asked:
... mineral water or regular water? (no details on what constitutes as regular)
... chilled, hot or plain?
Surely they ought to figure all that out by just looking at me, instead of subjecting me to all this.

Anonymous said...

Subway delight :) that is why we take a fast-foodie friend along to resolve confusion.

Oh and we prefer the honey-mustard yummmm


Casablanca said...

Hearty italian with chicken and southwest please. To go.

Oh... sorry, forgot we arent standing in the queue yet and you arent taking orders. What to do? We involuntarily utter these words after reading the Subway description :)

shakester said...

Parmesan oregano with Aloo patty,lots of olives, etc etc

Er, sorry- this is Singapore lah, not India wot!

Sheetal said...


Another experience from the pool of universal consiousness... this post on the pitfalls of hyperchoice.

Drops Of Jupiter said...

don't make me think of khandvis and gujrathi thalis...
I don't go home until July...bad boy!

Nessa said...

Hehehehe.. *the anonymous* is still ROTFL.. loved this one as usual :)

the Monk said...

Don't forget the conslation prize. Unless they make you choose with that, too.

Shweta said...

Most in sympathy I do be
Why for everything trifling question me?
For life’s big choices – there’s no escape
For these little things why breathe down my nape
Or keep it simply if you bloody hafta!
What the hell’s Fresh Angel Hair Pasta!
The secret then to all life’s woes
The adjectifing of every quelque choses

One in a Billion said...

Primalsoup: Exactly. The chap at this Indian restaurant here is the only person on this planet who does it right. Every time one walks into his restaurant, he brings precisely what one wants (a Gujarati Thali, believe it or not). Some might, of course, point to the fact that one has been eating the same thing at his restaurant every week for about five months now, but the point is he’s caught on.

Dee: What, you can actually tell them apart? (Sauces, that is, not friends.)

Casa: Ah, so you’ve memorized it. One’s mind is already being stretched to the limit, see. We’ve got all those passwords, we’ve got names and faces, we’ve got Vikas Bhalla song lyrics. And, in any case, one’s memory ain’t what it used to be. (One generally blames the Jhansi Ki Rani poem we were made to Learn By Heart in the fifth standard, but that is only because one has to blame something.)

Shakester: Singapore lah. Aloo patty don’t understand. Aloo patty cannot.

Sheetal: Thank you, O ornithologist extraordinaire. ‘Tis a great post.

Jupiter: Hah. One plans to make a trip in June.

One second thought, one might’ve hah-ed too soon. For the trip shall be to Delhi, which is apparently not the Place to Be these few months.

Nessa: Always glad to entertain *the anonymous*, of course.

Monk: (voice-over continues) “And, just for taking part, you get to choose a free sandwich!” *repeated thudding sounds of multiple heads banging against wall*

Shweta: Well. You comprehend the One exactly.

(Not replying in rhyme; this time
We’ll spare you the ordeal.
For that rhyme-scheme, one has found,
Be un peu difficile.)

Casablanca said...

un peu difficile

And the One does french too?

Hmmm... there is more to this Hobbit than meets the eye. Oops, sorry, wrong channel. Program aborted.

Anonymous said...

The key is to not have all sauces at once else you have garam masala and it all just hits the roof of your mouth :P


One in a Billion said...

Casa: Many Distinguished Teachers have tried for many years to impart their knowledge of French to the One, with little success. One of the few things one learnt to say was that one found it un peu difficile. One is given to understand that trop difficile also works.

Dee: Will keep that in mind. Not that one plans to go back there anytime soon.

Teleute said...

Which is why I always make someone else order for me when I'm visiting a new place for the first few times. Once I find something that I like, that way, I stick with it, mug up its name, and order it everytime I go back. Saves a whole lot of red-facedness.

One in a Billion said...

Teleute: Entirely wise, that. Now one shall have to look for somebody who wouldn't mind accompanying the One. You have no idea how difficult that is.