I shoulda known when I saw the sign on the car park door:
In case you went looking for another exit after this one.
Next to the Regent Hotel is that very old branch of that American chain of restaurants known as Dan Ryan’s Chicago Grill, and that’s where me and two female companions decided to eat after a spot of shopping (buying cloats).
The only good thing about dining at one of these places is that you know what you’re gonna order because the menu hasn’t changed for twenty odd years. But the waiter who assigned himself to our table was still a little too quick to ask what we wanted. Roughly 0.0345 seconds had passed after we settled our backsides into our seats before he asked to take our order.
Then he came back about 0.0996 seconds after we had told him to please give us a minute, and asked to take our order again. Good thing this time we were ready and we had resolved to order the ribs. Because, y’know, you eat ribs at Dan Ryan’s?
When he was jotting down our orders, we noticed something strange. He was addressing only me and ignoring my female dinner companions.
“Can I repeat your order, sir?”, he said.
“How about some drinks with that, sir?”, he said again.
2.457 seconds later, he came by again and asked, “Would you like any drinks with your meal, sir?”
And 1.753 seconds after the rack of ribs landed on our table, he popped up and asked, “How’s the food sir everything alright?”
Less than an hour must have passed when we threw in the moist towelettes and asked for the bill. The bill was presented to ‘sir’, who passed it to his female friend who wanted to use her Citibank credit card. The processed bill came back and was re-presented to ‘sir’, who, by this time, was wracked with trying to stifle laughter, and meekly pointed at sir’s dining companion, at which point, sir’s assigned waiter went ‘oh’.
It was time for the final exit.
…come and enjoy an most authentic American brunch,
…and receive a free dessert when dine-in.
I dunno. Maybe they spik like that in the Singapore part of Chicago.
iTunes is playing an illegal copy of Born At The Right Time from the album “Anthology, Disk 2″ by Paul Simon of which I have the original CD.
Surf stop: The High Levels
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