We had a pizza at Dizzy’s Jazz Cafe in Camps Bay the other night. Our table at Dizzy’s was outside, right next to the entrance to The Codfather. There was a constant stream of red-hot women strolling into the Codfather and because we hadn’t been there for a very long time we vowed to attend in the near future.

We booked a table and cruised into Codfather a couple of weeks ago and sat down at our table of 10. After 20 minutes our waiter (who turned out not to be our waiter) decided we might need a drink. I asked for an Amstel, to which the guy replied, “A Heineken or an Amstel?”.

[hmmmmm]

Now I spend a lot of my day on the telephone and believe I have a good idea of which words sound similair. I can confidently say that there is nothing about ‘Amstel’ that sounds like ‘Heineken’ and vice versa. You could rhyme ‘Amstel’ into other words/songs – for example you could sing to the tune of the Elton John’s ‘I’m still standing’ with the words ‘Amstel standing’ – now that makes sense. But ‘Heineken Standing’ just doesn’t sound like Elton’s song.

I informed him that my decision of an Amstel would stay and that my decisioning making process would remain inside my head until further notice.

The second drink took another 15 minutes to order after finishing the first. Can I give a little tip to any restaurant anywhere in the world?

Little Tip: SERVE DRINKS AS THE PATRON SITS DOWN AND GET THE SECOND DRINK BEFORE THAT DRINK IS FINISHED. THIS WILL ENSURE THE PATRON DOESN’T FIDGET. IT WILL ALSO NOT DRAW ATTENTION TO THE WAITER BEING SH*T.

The last memory of the evening was to do with a glass of ice. I asked our waiter for a pint glass of ice – for our wine. 15 minutes later the ice had not arrived and I stopped our first waiter to ask him for the same thing. Whilst I was explaining to him what I needed the SECOND WAITER grabbed his arm and dragged him from the table to help somewhere else. I think you may have missed that. Listen to me – HE LITERALLY GRABBED HIM AND PULLED HIM AWAY WHILST I WAS ORDERING SOMETHING. I’ll stop there.

That’s the end of the story. The food was good and there weren’t the hot women I expected. But these things pale in comparison to the other high(low)lights of our evening. Pity