stop the translation: March 2007

STOPTHETRANSLATION says: play with the bounceicles. click them, drag them, bump them around. they're crazy!

Saturday, March 17, 2007

Places to avoid

This one is called Zanzibar bar in NYC and if the stupidly echoing name doesn't raise a red flag I'll do it for you.
A bouncer checks your ID but doesn't bother to open the heavy door for you. Then, as you walk in, at least four employees stare at you with grinning faces like you just stepped into a trap but you're yet to find out. Then a person greets you, how nice, let's pretentiously call her the Maitre'D. You are then briskly lead by another one, the Leader, to the wardrobe where another one, the Wardrobe lady, who looks a bit ashamed to be a part of the whole scam, takes your coats. As you get your coat tags, another grinning person, the Who's this, leads you to the table where another one, the Menu messenger, brings some heavy one pound wooden menus with a mere seven dubious concoctions with pretentious names written on it and priced at or around $16 each. Then the Waitress comes. It was Friday night.
At this point I took a quick look around, I saw the fake atmosphere, the scattered customers with a niche for false sophistication and a lack of taste and the all around weirdness and made up my mind. "Let's go", I said.
The bouncer, the Maitre'D, the Leader, the Wardrobe lady, the Who's this, the Menu messenger and the Waitress, seven people work for this place before you get to order a drink.
If anybody ever recommends this place to you, do this: kick him in the balls, knee him in the forehead and punch him in the nose. If balls are not an option, just bitch slap her, whatever that means.

Signing off, STOPTHETRANSLATION.

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