One idea I’ve come up with should guarantee you free food at the favourite restaurant of your choice no matter where you live though it may also cause you to lose the meal should the restaurateur call your bluff.
It’s a brilliant idea and though I admit I came up with it in Leamington Spa’s Café Rouge I don’t want that fact in any way to slight the marvellous menu that they offer there. It’s just that upon my last visit they sat me and the wife right in the window so that we felt we had a bit of an audience as we ate. The passersby of Leamington Spa shared every morsel with us. And it got me thinking. Seeing me orgiastically stuffing my fat little face with their production line French cuisine was undoubtedly great free advertising for the restaurant. Therefore the inverse should also be true: i.e. seeing me pull horrific faces or even throwing up into the window would surely turn potential customers away in droves.
So what better way to bargain (or blackmail if you want to get all technical) a free meal than by threatening to throw up into the window of the eatery you have chosen to patronize? Or even better, just outside the door whilst waving a copy of the restaurant’s menu in your greasy little fist for all to see?
“Please, Mr Restaurant Owner, waive the bill or I shall be forced to release the dogs of wauuuugh...!”
I mean what could they do? Refuse? You merely introduce a couple of fingers to the back of your throat (if you don’t fancy doing this yourself it might be handy to invite someone along who is bulimic). Call the police? Merely throw up and then complain of feeling unwell... mutter something about the food not being cooked properly or food poisoning. The thought of all that bad press will see them bending over backwards to offer you all the freebies they can muster (as well as mopping up your spew).
I guarantee they’ll rip up the bill just to keep you quiet and your mouth literally closed.
So there you have it. The perfect way to take your loved one out for a meal but without having to dent your plastic or your wallet. Who says being a cheapskate can’t be romantic?
Look out for more money saving ideas on this ‘ere blog coming soon. I shall publish them just as soon as the medication wears off and I think of them.
21 comments:
It's an interesting..uhmm.. theory and one that reminds me of when I was pregnant with my eldest. I was very sick through the whole pregnancy but on one night I suddenly had a craving for a thai meal and so we went to the local where we had the most fabulous meal.However, as we stepped out from the air conditioned restaurant into the hot summer evening, an uncontrollable wave hit me and I chundered right in front of the entrance. Later that evening my husband had to go past the restaurant to buy me some indigestion tablets and he was horrified to see the restaurant completely empty....we've never dared go back !!
That's not a bad idea, but I suspect it's against the law, and I don't think handcuffs would suit you. Here's another idea: invite people to pull your beard for a pound. I bet they'd be queuing up to give it a tug and watch you grimace!
Selina: ah but that's proof that my idea would work!
Gorilla Bananas: interesting idea but my Shakespearian sensibilities do not allow me to countenance beard pulling of any sort.
Lucky you. In Walthamstow's select restaurants there's no need to shove one's fingers down one's throat to get the desired effect.
I'm thinking of opening a restauarant chain based on the Walthamstow model. It'll be called "Belimia".
Marginalia: let me guess... the food's so good you want to taste it twice?
I reckon it would work with the sensitive British restaurant manager...a French one would pop out will a bill for the e coli you had had on his premises without paying for it...
The fly in the web: you don't think they could handle the culinary competition...?
I know pubs where puking outside is considered stylish!
I did once stay at a youth hostel where a bloke actually began cooking roadkill crows - seriously. Now that was a put off.
Mark: it wasn't Hugh Fearnley-Whittingstall, was it?
Talking about throwing up all over glass windows, when I was at college, one of our lecturers took us all off on a jolly to the Winchester Crown Courts. At lunchtime we took over the pub across the road for a couple of hours and had quite a good fill. We re-convened upstairs in the public gallery and sat in steeply tiered seats, stacked up behind the tall glass screens that ringed the gallery wall itself.
The corporate fraud trial we were watching was about as boring and tedious as watching paint dry, until I noticed the shoulders on the large geeky student bloke in front of me start to twitch and judder increasingly violently. Then he just erupted in a monumentally huge technicolour yawn, all over the glass screen directly in front of him. It was seriously, seriously impressive stuff. A full on ’10 Star’ mega splat of a chunder. A real epic.
He was so bladdered he never even came close to getting his hands up to cover his mouth in time. My view of the Judge and the courtroom below was completely obscured by this great big sliding mural of lager, prawn curry, mushy chips and diced carrots. And all I could hear above the commotion of everyone else going into howls and seizures of laughter around the gallery, was the sound of the Judges voice yelling out very harshly – “Get that retched imbecile out of my court!, Get that retched imbecile out of my court! And clear the public gallery completely before I have everyone up there strung up for contempt”.
Our poor lecturer got himself seriously bollocked for that little episode too.
A man willing to put his fingers down his throat to throw up for a free romantic dinner ... your woman is indeed blessed.
I found you via Wanderlust, and I'm a little in love with you already.
I missed the romantic part. Where was it again?
Phil: are you sure the judge wasn't shouting, "Get that retching imbecile out of my court"?
MaidInAustralia: you're a woman with taste and class. Can I just say I draw the line at curries? They hurt when they come back up.
Being Me: see MaidInAustralia's comment above. It's all in the chunder sacrifice, babe.
AH... Hmm. Gee, that Karen sure has a catch there. Off to ask my husband why he won't consider doing that for me.
Being Me: if he refuses you're obviously feeding him the wrong kind of food. ;-)
Well it's certainly a plan. It may be plan b but it's certainly a plan...can't wait for your next idea Professor Potts
Nota Bene: my next plan involves getting free fuel from petrol stations but involves a bit of immolation. It needs tweaking before it's practicable.
Holy heck, I just don't know why someone hasn't thought of this before. Pure genius, Steve. Personally I have found the best way for a free meal is to do the ol' dine and dash but that isn't so easy as one gets er 'older'....
Amanda: exactly. Why run when you can hurl?
Tee hee
Laura: or tea for two?
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