It's amazing how little things slip in your life... without any responsibility higher than yourself... motivation becomes hard... making you just a little bit more lazy each day... each week... each month... until eventually... dishes dirty... cupboards bare... your dreams of becoming a world-renouned master chef have transformed themselves into discount dinners at the Hofer...
... but it really is the best food you could ever possibly have... 2 courses... plus salad... plus dessert... plus water... for 8 euros... you couldn't make the same meal at home as cheap...
... and usually the waitresses can speak a semi-understandable Ger-Ital-English that can at least get you through... 'ciao... alles good?... Menu?... Danke... Was es questo?... ok... Ein bitte... niet salad... gracie..."... but one particular waitress, bless her heart, has got nothing... and so when I'm like... 'filetto de maiale... es ist beef? chicken??'... and she stares blandly at me... we then resort to sign language... flap your arms like a chicken... fingers into horns like a bull...
... and?... and??...
... she...
... looks at the menu... looks around... points at the menu... looks around... scrunches her nose... and oinks...
... haha... really she did... it was awesome...
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