The other day I went to the local dining establishment of Portillo's, a local chain that pretty much offers nothing that would not be enjoyable to eat on the menu, and stuff Midwesterners love- hot dogs, beef sandwiches, Italian sausage- all of it prepared in the least healthy manner, but, the main this is that when you order your food, the person taking the order speaks it into a microphone, to evidently no one in particular. And, to describe certain foods prepared in certain manners or without certain ingredients, there seems to be a secret language used. Not totally unlike the fashion used at its Southern cousin, health food option The Waffle House. If you were to listen to the people yell out orders, the ordinary person might, even if given all the ingredients, make some bizarre dishes. If one were "to dirty up" a hot dog, you or I might drop it on the ground, not knowing the customer did not want a filthy hot dog, but instead, chili.
This whole secret language ordering thing got me to thinking how I would like to open a chain of restaurants and develop a nearly indecipherable language which would be used to communicate orders. A language so secretive, humorous, and skilled that even the Navajo would have a tough time with it. Here are just some idea examples for secret language:
"Give me a stinky wallaby, coat it in ny quill cherry and play lacrosse with it" -This would be some sort of fish sandwich with ketchup and diced onions
"Tango for two, Ken Griffey Jr. hamstring injury it, and throw some Rob Van Winkle on top"- two brownies, taken out of the over a little early with some vanilla ice cream on top.
Alright, so I guess it would be far easier to come up with a menu first, then the language, but I cannot imagine this place failing. And imagine the pride that would come with working there and learning the language? Wow.
Brian is currently working on coming up with the events for the Manlympics. A number of men will compete, and will evidently be placed on a scale ranging from 1 (Men who cry a lot) to 10 (Chuck Norris). I am quite excited about this and the smack talk going on already has been crazy. Just the other day Brian called me a "Level 3 Man", while he is evidently a Level 8. Soon after this we were driving near my house and the giant manmade sledding hill. I offered up "How funny would it be if I went up there by the people sledding, rolled down the hill, and came back like nothing had happened?" Brian then challenged my manhood, saying I lacked the testicular fortitude to do as such, and that I was also a "pussy". Luckily (or rather very unfortunately for me, I react to these words like when Marty McFly in Back to the Future got called yellow. I will do pretty much anything. Like sophomore year in college when I shaved all the hair off my body because Joe told me I did not have the balls to do it. ) when someone says something like that to me, it always makes me partake in the "challenge". So, I walked up the giant hill, where there were people sledding with their children, turned to them and said, "I'm going to roll," laid down, and rolled down the hill. And yes, there is video of this event. (if you have a phone that plays videos I can forward to you what I have). Brian also said I gained three levels on man for this event. How I got to Level 3 in the first place I do not really know. Hopefully these Manlympics occur soon enough and we can really gauge some manliness.
That's all for now. Back to storming around the office frustrated. For no reason other than looking busy. You heard it here first.
No comments:
Post a Comment