IT'S R-O-G-E-R

Gill and I were out east this morning getting a couple more bits we need for the den - like another lamp, because the lighting really is a bit too low for anything other than chilling in front of the TV.

We stopped by a certain food establishment that specializes in its breads, sandwiches soups, etc, to get a quick lunch there and I found the experience annoying. Don't get me wrong, my salad was about as exciting as you can ever expect a bunch of rabbit food to be and the bottle of water was superb, but the service was insane.

We hit just before the lunch time rush, so it wasn't slow, it was just crazy. I know I'm about to take my life in my hands and some readers will misunderstand this, but here goes - is it too much to ask for someone taking your order who speaks English and understands you?

I know we're a nation of immigrants and that's more evident in New York than most places. I'm not even going back over the opinion I stated here some months ago that if you want to live here the least you could do is learn the language.

I'm just saying if you put someone on the main counter, what's the point if the customer cannot even understand them? It was a good job there was a picture of the sides you could have with your order, because otherwise we might have been there all day trying to decipher what was being said. It was like being in India, the DR, or some other country where I don't know the language.

Then she asks for my name and can't get Roger at three attempts. She asks me to spell it and when the guy calls to say our food is ready, I realize she typed my name in as Roy!!!

Remind me tomorrow to do a good job of communicating with people in the first five minutes, because otherwise they may spend the rest of the service as ticked off as I was today and think twice about returning - as I will definitely do!