I’ve been reading reviews of a four-star French restaurant in New York where, if you’re stuck waiting in the lounge, they play French hip-hop “music” at you. That’s to soften you up for the prices.
When you’re finally seated, you can order a demi-tasse of soup–a little less than a shot-glass full–for beaucoup bucks; and if you and your wife want to spend $700 on a meal for two people, you can have them serve you a different kind of wine with every course. You can have lobster meat on mango slices for an appetizer. The magnifying glass is an extra $50. It’s $35 for this, $125 for that, and for all I know, you can get them to throw in clams on the half shell in maple syrup for another $75.
If they’re going to insult you, why not just call you rude names and punch you in the nose? Why be so subtle? Why charge you so much money for it?
Everything’s in French, so if you don’t speak the lingo, you won’t know what you’re getting. Well, I know what you’re getting… and it’s not a nice word.