EFFIE BATEMAN | BRISBANE | CONTACT
After months of microwaved meals and subpar home cooked meals, local woman Vanessa Leads is eager to tuck into something that doesn’t come from a package.
It’s true that she could have taken the time spent cooped at home to improve her cooking skills, but there’s just something better about a meal being cooked for you. That, and you don’t have to clean up.
But unfortunately, Vanessa’s third time eating out has not been to her standards – which should be expected given that she ordered a Japanese dish from an RSL club.
“This isn’t worth $22”, complains Vanessa, as she attempts to cut the stringy dry piece of sauteed chicken in half, “this is definitely overcooked.”
“Honestly I can’t believe I’m paying so much for this shit. You know that’s almost my hourly wage? I worked a whole goddamn hour for a limp piece of chicken.”
Giving up on trying to chew down the sinewy meat , Vanessa attempts to moisten her palette with a sip of $6 riesling.
“EUUUURGHH! Jesus, do they not taste test this stuff before they put it on the menu?”, she says, making a screwed up face, “it’s like drinking boiled down cat biscuits.”
Vanessa’s friend, Catherine, nods in commiseration, noting that her plate of chips is a ‘bit on the salty side.’
“I should have ordered the parmy. Can’t fuck that one up. I’m so pissed off now.”
Glumly poking the pitiful side salad with her fork, Vanessa is about to go off on a rant about how shit Mesclun lettuce is when she’s briefly interrupted by the waiter, who’d like to know how her meal went.
“Food is great, thanks.”
“Feeling sooo full haha.”
More to come.
