The authors of Proverbs give much sane advice about staying
out of trouble. I greatly respect it, but I can’t say I always follow it.
Yesterday I made the mistake of walking past a restaurant
while I was hungry (Solomon warned about watching past temptation)…
Bad sign #1: As I was coming up, a waiter rushed up to me
and thrusti one of the restaurant’s
menus into my hands.
Mistake #1: I took it and started looking over it.
Bad sign #2: The waiter wouldn’t let me look at the menu in
peace, but had to show me the food and talk to me, despite my half-hearted,
non-commitment attitude, etc.
Mistake #2: I was still there.
Bad sign #3: He decided I wanted a salad (I hadn’t said
that), so he had one prepared for me while he steered me to a table.
Mistake #3: I didn’t turn and run.
To confirm what I was getting, since I hadn’t ordered it, I
asked him if it was a petit salad. He replied in the affirmative. It looked
really good, I was hungry, and the menu said it was only five dirhams, so:
Mistake #4: I sat down to eat it.
He asked if I’d like soup. I told him I wanted to eat my
salad first. He persisted. I put him off.
Bad sign #4: He got me soup anyway.
The salad was delicious. It was actually an assortment of
potato salads, carrot salad, and rice. Very good. I asked the guy if the soup
was soup, just to make sure where I stood in relation to the menu. He confirmed
that it was soup, and:
Bad sign number #5: He moved the bowl of soup directly in
front of me and picked up my bread, almost as if to feed me himself to prevent
my asking any more stupid questions.
Mistake #5: I ate the soup. (On the menu, soup only cost 2.5
dirhams.)
At this point, I was ready to pay, but slightly apprehensive
because of the plethora of warning signs I’d seen. (I also felt like people
were looking at me like I was a sheep about to be fleeced.) I didn’t have the
appropriate change, so I pulled out ten dirhams and handed them to the guy,
expecting 2.5 dirhams back.
Then the fun began. He wanted to charge me sixteen, more
than twice the menu price. I refused, grabbed the menu and showed him the
prices. At that point, he tried to explain that my salad wasn’t a petit salad
and grabbed a slightly smaller dish to show me. I reminded him that he had said
it was a petit salad. The soup, he claimed, wasn’t regular soup, it was Hariri
soup. I asked him to show me the distinction on the menu, because I saw only
one listed. He insisted. I refused. The price he wanted to charge me for the
soup was higher than I’d ever seen it in Morocco.
At this impasse, a guy sitting alongside the restaurant
intervened, giving the waiter the money he was asking for, apparently amused by
the whole business (as he should have been: we were only bickering over a
dollar).
The waiter than applied to my sense of honor, letting
someone else pay for the bill, but, suspecting that this guy might also be in
on the game and convinced I was right, per the menu, I declined and left, frustrated
and leaving without my change—all $0.30 of it.
I hope I did right. I always used to think it was better to
be shamefully used than to risk misusing someone else, but my senses, and my
mind told me I was right. And so I acted the way I did, but looking back, I
wished I would have heeded the multiple warning signs and refused the food.
Now I’m extremely hesitant to eat at any restaurant here in
Meknes—a shame, because it’s my last real chance to eat Moroccan food. So back to the street venders...
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