There's a small food court in the building I work in. As you'd expect, there's a predictably bland kiosk that serves Italian (-ish) food like pizza, panzerotti, lasagne... you get the idea. The guy who works at the cash register has, shall we say, a somewhat imperfect command of the English language.
Normally, as I'm walking away after paying for my lunch I expect to hear something along the lines of "See you tomorrow" or perhaps the ubiquitous "Have a nice day". This guy, though, always says "Good luck" as he waves goodbye. Every time he does that, I look at my slowly congealing slice of 'za and wonder whether he's trying to tell me something...
Wednesday, May 07, 2008
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2 comments:
Check the signage round the kiosk -- maybe certain slices have prizes in them.
Maybe I should just go for the simplest of syllogisms: food court = Russian roulette.
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