Mon Jardin Restaurant
Mon Jardin Restaurant
Ladies and gentlemen,
A funnier experience, with the libretto straight from the life of a restaurant, not even Uncle Iancu, may he rest in peace, enjoyed, for he would have died with laughter had he crossed Mon Jardin?s threshold.
First of all, this restaurant is located in Banu Manta, close to the mayor hall with a soldier in front, and one might think that this gives it an advantage. The summer garden has a very exhausted look, maybe intended to be romantic, but it sweated and altered itself freely. Or freed itself alterably, the dilemma lingers on until autumn. You go in and you realize it is too hot, because the air does not circulate at all through this hall( pretty wide) turned into a terrace. You cross the garden, you don?t see any waiters, you go in the restaurant( an old house, with a repartition of the rooms that only the architect that created it could have explained) and you end up alone. As solitary as the nightingale?s heart in autumn is every corner. You tend to scream, you get scared, become claustrophobic because the atmosphere is damn unbearable. There is no AC, all the windows are firmly closed, and the only thing you can hear is a fly buzzing and mourning for its worthless days in search of the kitchen.
Back outside, and a dwarfish, plump girl appears, wearing a white shirt and black low-waist, tight trousers, with rolled waistband, giving way to an eruption of fat. The little seal is overwhelmed by the situation from the very beginning, her heated little head not being able to produce more than a sweat clodding the few locks of hair that escaped the off-hand made pony-tail. Not to mention the tooth that scanned the horizon in search of a better life each time her lips sketched a crack; dreamy!
Out of the firm order repeated twice that consisted of: an orange fresh drink, a sparkling water and ice, she understood a still water and a fresh drink with ice. I explained that I wanted the ice separately, but it was too much for her at that time. I gave up, fishing instead two ice cubes from the fresh drink and throwing them into the warm, brackish still water, which I freshened a bit. After ten minutes I managed to stop her once more, ordering a Greek salad and a piece of the house?s cake. She put it down conscientiously giving away the impression that she understood. At least that is what I thought/ hoped. It is only now that the show starts. Two other tables were occupied ( a total of four) and the seal started showing signs of confusion. At one time two men from a table got up, one around 40 years old, the other close to 60, and started to fret around, trying to encourage the seal in danger. Now, the poor seal maybe would have managed to serve/ get rid of/ squeeze the oranges for the fresh drinks, but my feeling was that , when she disappeared, as mysterious as Poseidon?s sea nymphs , she was also cooking something in the kitchen.
I say that because my salad took 40 minutes to finally rest on my table; this is an unpardonable performance time even for a lazy seal.
The suspicions regarding the two men came true, at some point, by coming out both with the plates on their arms and serving the hungry crowd, who had already started to wrangle.
The most miserable were the members of a couple, in which she was obviously the lioness. Sitting in a booth( what an unpardonable mistake, because there not one bit of air moves) and left to wait half an hour until the seal delivered their order, the two had different ways of approaching the disaster. The old lioness stirred behind the wooden bars and tried, for the beginning, to catch the seal?s eyes. But what kind of seal looks straight into the eyes of an angry lion? So Mrs. Lion left the good-tempered king to sweat in his way and bravely went to attack, getting out of the cage.
She went to the haunted house two times, from which at irregular and extremely large intervals of time came out the supposed dishes. She wasn?t very successful , except the fact that the seal avoided her even more, probably fearing the inherent curses, not being able to solve anything.
After half an hour after my calculations, the lioness finally gave up. She stood up relatively calm, went to the kitchen where the waiter- cooker hybrids were crammed( she probably paid for the water she had had, when she announced her withdrawal), took her little husband by the paw and left. Not even two minutes pass and the seal shows up proudly with two dishes on her dexterous fins. A crazy thought crosses my mind, but I refuse to believe it. However, she was heading towards the now-abandoned booth! Dear readers, the face of the seal at the sight of the empty booth would have made even a black goby rotten on the beach laugh. Her neurons were simply frozen. She opened her mouth two or three times without making a noise after which she raised her head to the sky.
I couldn’t help myself and I burst out laughing and the entire terrace joined me. There was some applause, too, a bit too isolated for the monumental role the little plump girl with an edelweiss on her upper jaw played.
From here on everything got lost in the ordinary.
Place recommended to those going through depression, or that those left.
