My OperaHow would you like that sir?
Friday, August 10, 2007 7:17:38 PM
Isn't it absolutely wonderful when somebody cooks you a lovely meal and all you do is sit down and eat it? No choice, you just eat up what's in front of you. Or when you go into Gregg's on the High Street and ask for a baguette. They just give you one and take your money. Ideal.They're happy, they've made a sale and you're happy, you've got your lunch. What could be more easy? Nothing. However in America, the land of freedom and opportunity, a simple soul like me can get really stressed out by a straightforward little thing like getting something to eat for lunch. The choices and decisions you have to make to purchase just a sandwich, for instance, are mind-boggling. I'll give you an example of what I mean.
We're in beautiful sunny Anchorage now but a few days ago we were in beautiful but rainy Juneau. Now the Silverbowe Cafe in downtown Juneau is a very good place to eat, very friendly, very hip, nice food and great environment. One late misty morning I popped in there to escape a shower and have an early lunch. Perfect. I walked up to the counter and was greeted by a pleasant but slightly too cool young man who asked me what I would like and pointed to the board. Now this board was about the size of small Balkan country and my stress levels rose instantly as I stared in utter amazement and bewilderment at the range of choices available to me. What seemed like an eternity later, after I had tried to take in all the information that was written above me, I finally announced to the assistant triumphantly that I would like a chicken salad sandwich. Phew, what a relief. I was quite pleased with myself. But this was only the beginning of the nightmare on 2nd Street. My lunch would not be won that easily. The interrogation was about to begin. Under the brightening lights and with beads of sweat rolling down my forehead I heard the young man's voice again.
" What kind of bread do you want, white, rye, wheat, sourdough, bagel or wrap?'
" Do you want small, medium or large?"
" Do you want that toasted?"
" What type of cheese do you want with that, cheddar, Swiss, mozarella, blue or goat's?" ( CHEESE????...on a chicken salad sandwich..had he heard me right?)
" What do you want in your salad, lettuce, cucumber, tomato, onions, olives, gherkins, radish,etc..?"
" What kind of dressing do you want on that,Caesar, Italian, French, blue...etc?"
" Do you want chips ( CRISPS to us) or carrots with that?"
" What do you want to drink with that?"
" Is that to go or eat in?"
...and so the questionning continued until I almost cracked under the pressure and screamed " Good god man give me a f...... chicken salad sandwich will you, please before I expire on the floor of your cafe." Just as the life-force was about to leave me the quesionning suddenly ended and in the nick of time my order was placed. Oh the tyranny of choice, it's killing us all slowly and don't tell me that we're more free with more choice, because we're not, we're just not, believe me; we're just more fussy, picky, confused, stressed and ulimately beholden to and enslaved by the people who provide services to us.
Later that evening a tall, twitching Englishman went to the pub and on the way pointed to a skewer of stuff on a street barbecue run by a Philipino woman saying; "I'll have that one please, just as it is, it looks fine, thank you..yes and you have a nice day too." Bliss.
Well that's got that off my chest. Thank you readers. Despite all of these trials and tribulations John and I continue to weave our way across the Last Frontier. Anchorage at the moment before Homer tomorrow. Glaciers, snowy peaks, whales, porpoises, bears, eagles..all the usual stuff.
Have fun folks. Bye for now.
The chaps.
P.S. The chicken sandwich was rather good.
We're in beautiful sunny Anchorage now but a few days ago we were in beautiful but rainy Juneau. Now the Silverbowe Cafe in downtown Juneau is a very good place to eat, very friendly, very hip, nice food and great environment. One late misty morning I popped in there to escape a shower and have an early lunch. Perfect. I walked up to the counter and was greeted by a pleasant but slightly too cool young man who asked me what I would like and pointed to the board. Now this board was about the size of small Balkan country and my stress levels rose instantly as I stared in utter amazement and bewilderment at the range of choices available to me. What seemed like an eternity later, after I had tried to take in all the information that was written above me, I finally announced to the assistant triumphantly that I would like a chicken salad sandwich. Phew, what a relief. I was quite pleased with myself. But this was only the beginning of the nightmare on 2nd Street. My lunch would not be won that easily. The interrogation was about to begin. Under the brightening lights and with beads of sweat rolling down my forehead I heard the young man's voice again.
" What kind of bread do you want, white, rye, wheat, sourdough, bagel or wrap?'
" Do you want small, medium or large?"
" Do you want that toasted?"
" What type of cheese do you want with that, cheddar, Swiss, mozarella, blue or goat's?" ( CHEESE????...on a chicken salad sandwich..had he heard me right?)
" What do you want in your salad, lettuce, cucumber, tomato, onions, olives, gherkins, radish,etc..?"
" What kind of dressing do you want on that,Caesar, Italian, French, blue...etc?"
" Do you want chips ( CRISPS to us) or carrots with that?"
" What do you want to drink with that?"
" Is that to go or eat in?"
...and so the questionning continued until I almost cracked under the pressure and screamed " Good god man give me a f...... chicken salad sandwich will you, please before I expire on the floor of your cafe." Just as the life-force was about to leave me the quesionning suddenly ended and in the nick of time my order was placed. Oh the tyranny of choice, it's killing us all slowly and don't tell me that we're more free with more choice, because we're not, we're just not, believe me; we're just more fussy, picky, confused, stressed and ulimately beholden to and enslaved by the people who provide services to us.
Later that evening a tall, twitching Englishman went to the pub and on the way pointed to a skewer of stuff on a street barbecue run by a Philipino woman saying; "I'll have that one please, just as it is, it looks fine, thank you..yes and you have a nice day too." Bliss.
Well that's got that off my chest. Thank you readers. Despite all of these trials and tribulations John and I continue to weave our way across the Last Frontier. Anchorage at the moment before Homer tomorrow. Glaciers, snowy peaks, whales, porpoises, bears, eagles..all the usual stuff.
Have fun folks. Bye for now.
The chaps.
P.S. The chicken sandwich was rather good.
