Went down to Phin's with a friend today. Verdict: Do not go there unless you really don't know where else to find steak. For one thing, the service as abysmal. It's about as bad as they come. We take a seat and nobody bothers to clear the table until we're frantically waving to get their attention. Just because we were sitting in some obscure corner was *no* excuse for such conduct. And then came the food. Prompt. I'd liked that, that is until I'd realised that I'd gotten a medium-rare steak with...mushroom sauce, I think. I'd ordered one with pepper sauce. My friend wound up with a well-done steak with mushroom sauce...and the order was for medium rare. Two screwups in a row. Quite a nice streak forming. Best of all, when it came to the bill, the guy at the cash register told us to "wait outside", which, in our context, would have meant that we were to wait outside of the mall. It was absurd enough to have me gaping for a while, and my friend was getting rather peeved. Well...that's the experience. Unique but not quite desirable.
Laundry is a strange thing. One moment you find yourself short of clean clothes to wear, and the next, you seem to be in the same predicament. Case 1: Clothes become dirty and you do not want to wear them. Case 2: Clothes are clean and smell nice, but you can't for the life of you find them! Verdict: Clean clothes go into hiding shortly after they'd been washed and dried. Its logical, given the fact that they probably do not savour the experience of getting soiled and smelly all over again. I am never surprised to discover that I can never find the clothes I want when I'm looking for them, and invariably do when I'm not. Devious clothing. *sticks tongue out*
No comments:
Post a Comment