“Sir minimum waiting 1 hour to 1 hour 15 mins and you will have to share your table” said the booking guy at a famous South Indian restaurant.
“Okay” I said with a frown on my face. And also with a hope that somehow I’ll talk him into giving me a seat a tad bit earlier.
Sunday evenings are meant to be preparatory for the grilling week ahead. By preparatory I mean 2 pillows, one quilt a nice movie/book and everything else that can make you feel lazy and cozy. Minimum cooking effort is a valuable addition on any day.
But here I am waiting for a long time outside a famous restaurant. What makes it worse is the thought of an hour’s drive back home.
Is good food worth soo much? I wonder
Aarghhh!!! I hate such evenings
Tranquility lost sleep lost