To: Armenian deli-from-helli across the road from the office
From: Meg Pickard, loyal customer (mornings: latte/marmite on toast, lunchtimes: mineral water/salad/baguette) AKA “Lady”
Subject: GREEK SALAD
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Hi (lady),
I just got some of your ‘greek salad’ to go with my cheese baguette this lunchtime. It looked so yummy in the chiller cabinet, I just had to have some.
Now, I realise you’re Armenian, not Greek. I’m not Greek either. But I know a thing or two about Greek Salad, namely that the aforementioned salad should not contain
- mushrooms (!!!)
- avocado (!!)
- sun dried tomatoes (no!)
- mozarella cheese (!!!!) or
- hair (eck!)
Just thought you might like a bit of friendly customer feedback. Oh, incidentally, you overcharged me, too. Again.
Not to worry, though.
Meg. xxx
p.s. I think it’s a definite sign you need a holiday when you start having strange dreams about Okinawa dragons and the bloke behind the cash register at your local sandwich emporium.
Update, later:
Jen, a kind reader, wrote to let me know that next time I’m screwed round by the deli-from-helli (see below) I could liberally employ the Armenian word “Esh-egg” (phonetic transcription), which roughly translates as jackass.
I think I’d probably end up with yak shit on my toast if I did, though.
Mind you, yak shit… marmite…. what’s the difference, frankly?
