Just had the last supper of this rotation and I’m more than ready to head off for leave tomorrow. I am, however, pretty concerned about what I might come back after 4 weeks. There’s a lot of changes goin’ on around here. But first, let’s all oooh and ahh at my ’69 Beaumont that is fresh outta the body/paint shop:
On Second Thought
Remember how enamoured I was with the Monti for breakfast just about a week ago? Well, the bloom came off that rose pretty damn quickly. It started with the return of segmented plates. Nothing fits in those individual segments and it makes it impossible to cut toast diagonally (which is the only way toast should ever be cut) without tearing it into a depressing mess that is not in the least bit symmetrical. Then someone started fucking with the toasters…turning off the top element so only one side would toast. What the fuck good is that? So you have to put it through again and no matter how hard you visualize the path the bread takes through the machine, you invariably end up with one side burnt and one side white.
Then there were the extant issues I didn’t notice on our first couple of visits in my euphoria of not having to listen to D complain how “the British slice fucking tomatoes” at the Cambridge because “you can’t put that in a goddamn sandwich”, (although he has a point). The layout, for example. Why are there only plates available with the cereal? Why do they randomly move the bread around. One day it would be on the first serving area near the entrance, the next on the other side of the DFAC. Everything is really far from everything else and I’m winded by the time I’ve managed to make it to our table. Especially egregious, however, is the absence of salt and pepper on the tables. I’m not going to take one or two packets of salt and risk having to walk all the way to the condiment table if my low sodium light fails to extinguish halfway through breakfast. I’m taking four even if it means I end up throwing one out. I’m North American; laziness will always trump any concerns I may have about wastefulness.
Now that the queues at the Cambridge and Northline has abated somewhat (hey, where’d everyone go?) I don’t plan to return to the Monti for breakfast anytime soon.
Orange is the New Awesome
The Mandarin Cheese Cake at the Lux was excellent. The oranges in it were still slightly frozen so we knew it had only recently come out of the freezer and was, therefore, only marginally sullied from contact with KAF air. M spoke for both of us when he said “Anything tastes great if it’s got Mandarin orange segments in it”.
Both the Northline and Cambridge had excellent oranges today. “These are awesome! They’re
super easy to peel and seedless! DFAC oranges are usually way to hard to peel”, I declared enthusiastically. “Waah, the oranges are too hard to peel and my diamond shoes are too tight. First world problems, man”, R responded in her usual supportive manner.
What’s in a Name
I really don’t know what to make of the Cambridge pudding that looks like chocolate, is labeled “Coconut” and tastes like neither. It was inoffensive yet mysterious.
That Clears Things Up
Usually when there’s an announcement over the many mutually interfering loudspeakers in KAF, it sounds something like “Message from the JDOC, there messege thewill JDOC be theone JDOC there controlledwill be theredetonationcontrolled will detonationone to controlled southwestdetonation of controlled KAF fivedetonationminutes insouthwest five KAFof minutes.” only more garbled. Now rather than trying to guess what the hell they’re talking about you can tune if for all the JDOC hits on Rocket FM. I can’t say I’ve ever listened to it yet as I don’t want to risk missing a minute of the scintillating live tennis and cricket coverage on BFBS but A tells me it’s a great way to avoid a nasty surprise as the controlled detonation rocks your building.
The Beginning of the End
Well, it’s clear that KAF’s days as a shopping Mecca are numbered. The Boardwalk is starting to look like an Appalachian smile as gaping holes appear in place of the once thriving businesses. The Burger Joint, with its more Burger King and KAF Burger King taste is no more. There’s also some a large empty space on the northwest side which was once occupied by some shop selling some kind of junk that was never, in 5 years, tempting enough to make me enter it. I don’t quite remember what it sold…those ridiculous elephant statuettes or gawdy jewelry perhaps?
AJ’s is also gone. How the heck are we supposed to start electrical fires without access to Chinese-quality (not to be confused with Chinese-made) electronics? More importantly, who’s going to quite us down the road to destiny?
The biggest news, of course, is that Food Fun is no more. One day it’s selling delicious, intestinal distress inducing kababs and butter chicken, the next, Poof! Gone!
I take this as a sure sign that food in KAF is very rapidly going to become much less fun. I loved that fucking place, especially the guy who took the orders. Anyone that can be that happy in KAF either comes from a shithole that is more disgusting than I can even imagine…or is just one frighteningly cheerful guy. I hope for his sake, it’s that latter.
The stupid internet went stupid down stupid last night so I had to get up at stupid 5 am to finish this stupid blog before catching my unstupid flight. I hope you’re happy. Anyway, the last part was rushed and I didn’t proofread. So sue me. I’m going to go get drunk in Dubai now.
One does not leave a convivial party before closing time. – Winston Churchill