Eating Out

I think restaurants are taking the customer service thing too far!

I popped into town for a walk (I’m a man of leisure these days... writing only) and decide to have an early evening supper (saves me cooking or bothering the servants on their day off). I found a nice place where I can sit with a glass of red and make some notes (for the chapter I’m working on.) I check the menu and order the Chef’s Special Burger.

Ten minutes later, I’ve got what seems like a perfectly cooked, tasty burger. I take one bite and the waiter comes along and says, “How’s everything? All okay, sir?”
I’ve got a mouthful of burger so I just mutter, “Yeah, all good, thanks.”
About ninety seconds later a waitress comes over and says, “Everything alright with your burger, sir?”
Again I’ve got a mouthful of food so I just mumble something and nod my head to indicate, ‘Fine,' although what I'm actually thinking is, 'Please just piss off and let me eat in peace. If there was something wrong with my bloody burger, I’d come and find you and tell you.’

Now I’m paranoid. Either they are trying to poison me, state execution style, because I’ve been a little bit negative about something the Government's done, or complained about Just Stop Oil protestors sticking themselves to the road, or some sarcastic remark I've made about the European Empire (maybe even the Eurovision Song Contest) or they’ve just employed a dodgy chef who made it here in a boat and the geezer’s never cooked a burger before!

I’ve left the burger, half eaten. Too risky. Now ordering another vino.