The Royal Orchid Hotel’s key card holder that they give you when you check in says “Walk into any Royal Orchid Hotels today and you’ll never find what you “ecpect” (sic).” Oh, they got that right!
Tonight I walk into the hotel and am shown to a table. Nothing unusual about that. I sit down and take the folded napkin off the table and open it up to put on my lap. Nothing unusual about that. Until I see the beige/gray spot in the middle of the napkin. Hmm, ok that’s a bit unusual, but so what? Then I look closer as there is an odd… fuzziness to the edges of this spot.
It is rat hair.
Either that or someone with rat-like hair is suffering from radiation poisoning and shedding clumps of hair and he used this napkin before me, then folded it nicely into a “standing hat” and put it back on the table.
Score: Bangalore 7, Scott 2.
Time for a different napkin!
For dinner tonight I had my usual: the Orchid Club which amounts to a chicken, cheese and what I hope is a squashed layer of fried egg sandwich. I have to scrape off the onions they hide in there but I’ve been doing that for 40 years and am quite skilled at doing so. Asking them to make it sans-onion is actually riskier than keeping the interfaces between myself and the wait staff as simple as possible. While English is fortunately understood here, it is not always understood when you go into areas outside what is expected be said. As an example, my few attempts in the restaurant to ask for a coke zero put the waiter into a state of confusion that was easily readable on his face. Saying “diet coke” to the confused face turns that frown upside down and suddenly a look of relieved comprehension appears.
What’s perhaps important to bring up here is something I hinted at earlier. One of the waiters here knows me by sight now. In fact his way of saying “Oh, hello Scott, how are you today?” is to come up to me with an expectant face and ask “diet coke?” How can I say no to that face? To myself, I’ve named him Bob. (This is not the same Bob from the office.) Bob the waiter. Can he get me a diet coke? Yes he can!
Well, all week I’ve been not tipping this guy, and so here I am, last night in the hotel, and at dinner and he is doing his best to treat me like I’m his favorite customer. Dinner is complete and I get the bill. The total cost for this dinner is somewhere in the neighborhood of 2000 rupees which is around $30 USD. I throw a 500 rupee note in there and run away before I have to face any kind of gratitude. Since he works the evening shift this should be the last time I see him. Feeling like I’ve done a good deed, I head off to bed.
Score: Bangalore 7, Scott 3.
Tonight I walk into the hotel and am shown to a table. Nothing unusual about that. I sit down and take the folded napkin off the table and open it up to put on my lap. Nothing unusual about that. Until I see the beige/gray spot in the middle of the napkin. Hmm, ok that’s a bit unusual, but so what? Then I look closer as there is an odd… fuzziness to the edges of this spot.
It is rat hair.
Either that or someone with rat-like hair is suffering from radiation poisoning and shedding clumps of hair and he used this napkin before me, then folded it nicely into a “standing hat” and put it back on the table.
Score: Bangalore 7, Scott 2.
Time for a different napkin!
For dinner tonight I had my usual: the Orchid Club which amounts to a chicken, cheese and what I hope is a squashed layer of fried egg sandwich. I have to scrape off the onions they hide in there but I’ve been doing that for 40 years and am quite skilled at doing so. Asking them to make it sans-onion is actually riskier than keeping the interfaces between myself and the wait staff as simple as possible. While English is fortunately understood here, it is not always understood when you go into areas outside what is expected be said. As an example, my few attempts in the restaurant to ask for a coke zero put the waiter into a state of confusion that was easily readable on his face. Saying “diet coke” to the confused face turns that frown upside down and suddenly a look of relieved comprehension appears.
What’s perhaps important to bring up here is something I hinted at earlier. One of the waiters here knows me by sight now. In fact his way of saying “Oh, hello Scott, how are you today?” is to come up to me with an expectant face and ask “diet coke?” How can I say no to that face? To myself, I’ve named him Bob. (This is not the same Bob from the office.) Bob the waiter. Can he get me a diet coke? Yes he can!
Well, all week I’ve been not tipping this guy, and so here I am, last night in the hotel, and at dinner and he is doing his best to treat me like I’m his favorite customer. Dinner is complete and I get the bill. The total cost for this dinner is somewhere in the neighborhood of 2000 rupees which is around $30 USD. I throw a 500 rupee note in there and run away before I have to face any kind of gratitude. Since he works the evening shift this should be the last time I see him. Feeling like I’ve done a good deed, I head off to bed.
Score: Bangalore 7, Scott 3.
No comments:
Post a Comment