Once again I signaled the waiter and told him: "a Viennese Schnitzel, please". Suddenly, behind me, a choir started to sing: "You are an asshole, you are an asshole". Startled, I turned around, and saw behind me a group of three men in evening suits, with violins and guitar, who played music and sang insults to me. "What's your problem, dickhead?" they sang softly into my ear, followed by a skillful violin solo. I asked the waiter: "Um, excuse me, who are these guys?" - "Them? Oh, that's our house band, they entertain our guests with some musical ambience - aaand they also help them to pick the right dish from the menu." - "What do you mean 'the right dish', are there wrong ones?" I asked. The waiter started to explain that there weren't really "wrong" dishes, but the cooks simply don't want to do some of the meals, also there are contracts with food companies about purchase quantities, which they had to fulfill, and for those reasons they would vastly prefer some meals over others. A restaurant like theirs wouldn't be possible otherwise. I understood the situation, but one thing I didn't get, so I asked the waiter: "I understand, but wouldn't it be much easier to just remove the bad dishes from the menu? I mean, surely the house band costs a lot of extra money, which in turn makes the dishes more expensive. Also most of your customers probably don't enjoy getting insulted". "Fuck off if you don't like it." the choir sang, and the waiter replied "Don't worry, sir, all this has no effect on the prices of the dishes. The choir will be billed separately after all, and it can't be canceled anyway. And, of course, we would NEVER take a dish off the menu, after all we wouldn't be the best restaurant in the world if you weren't able to order anything you wanted to!"
To get out of this unpleasant situation I decided to order an italian salad, this would go along with about everything. That seemed to please the choir, who now turned on other guests. The waiter happily noted my order and went straight to the kitchen. I took a sip of my beer and eagerly awaited the arrival of my food, since in the meantime I got really hungry. After only 20 minutes the waiter returned, carrying two big plates, which he presented to me with a big smile on his face: "There you go, sir, your italian
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