I wrote this letter of compliment a few years ago after a smoker dude did a very unsanitarily stinky fart at a restaurant. That makes it sound like the letter was to him. Read on to see what I actually mean…
6th January 2010
Dear Scholar’s Hotel, Restaurant and Bar,
On the Sunday that fell just after St. Stephen’s Day, I was fortunate enough to partake of an evening meal at your restaurant with my partner and his parents. Our evening had a fine start with bottles of French and Chilean wine slurped elegantly in an atmosphere of well-judged mood lighting and pleasing old fashioned decor. Fine as this was, you successfully elevated our already joyous moods by bringing out your well-prepared and flavoursome starters. I can quite truthfully say that the crabmeat spring rolls were of a very high standard, while my (usually truthful) party of diners informed me with great vigour that not only was the braised pear and pine nut dish most refreshing, but the seafood chowder was a chowder to beat all chowders. Thus, at this point in our evening, our revelry was of monumental proportions, and consequently we thrust ourselves most energetically into our main courses, a delicious lamb shank in red wine gravy delicately balanced upon a bed of potato mash, a superb venison cut accompanied by delightfully dinky venison pie, a succulent salmon fillet with a decoration of crisp mange tout (of which, the diner in question had previously been a mange tout virgin, thus it was on this evening that his mange tout chasteness was stolen with great frivolity) and a divine steak with spinach side dish (whose more precise description alludes me as I didn’t pay enough attention).
Upon finishing our delicious meals, we were furnished with the dessert menu, from which we carefully selected our coffees. It was at the point where I was approximately two thirds of the way through my coffee that a somewhat unusual event occurred. My partner’s mother decided to pay a visit to your lavatory (for the purposes of this letter she requires a name, but in pursuit of her anonymity we find ourselves in the unlikely position of referring to her as Sheba). Now, before I take this story any further, I would just like to reassure you that Sheba was indeed a member of our dinner party, and definitely not some crazed vagabond that had found her way in off the streets disguised as a sophisticated diner, despite the fact that her fake name was Sheba. Continuing with the story, we find ourselves in the ladies’ lavatory at a point in time where Sheba unwittingly lost her mobile telephone from the rather unsafely loose pocket of her not-casual-but-not-cocktail-party-dress-either black trousers. When Sheba suddenly became aware of the location of her telephone, she was already passing water at full-flow and unable to come to a complete halt, which would not normally be a problem, however the mobile telephone in question was submerged below the water within the lavatory bowl. In a desperate bid to avoid urinating on it, she had to redirect her stream onto the floor in front of the lavatory. Now, before you panic about the state of your delightful lavatories, I can assure you that Sheba used as much paper as was necessary to sponge up her not-so-little accident, and was in very high spirits upon her return to the dining area. I can also assure you that the mobile telephone in question did return to its normal, fully functioning state the following morning after having its internal components thoroughly dried overnight near the radiator (although I have not been made aware of its current aromatic state, and therefore cannot comment on such matters). Might I suggest that your executive in charge of sanitation and waste disposal investigates the possibility of having your lavatory bowls fitted with mobile telephone filtration devices to capture any falling mobile telephones before they reach the water (probably available from Dunne’s Stores). On second thoughts, might I suggest that you don’t investigate this, for I fear what else might be captured by your mobile telephone filtration system.
Now, compared to most, this could be described as a highly eventful evening, however there was to occur another noteworthy event approximately one wine-judged hour after the telephone incident, at which point our dinner party was indulging recklessly in delicious cold beverages around a circular table within your bar. The event I am about to describe to you can only be summarised as an assault on the olfactory senses of three out of the four members of our party. It occurred as a medium-to-well-dressed gentleman strolled past us on his way to the smokers’ outdoor area. Now, I can only assume that his bowels were in a shambolic state following extreme overindulgence in Christmas Brussels sprouts, otherwise it would have been entirely impossible for a human being of his stature and popularity to create such a formidable bottom-burp. It is often said that we learn something new every day, and since this event, it has become clear to me why smokers are now required to keep their naked flames outdoors.
I would like to thank you very much for an exciting and entertaining evening at your fabulous restaurant and bar, and I wish you great success in future hosting dinner parties, preparing fine food, maintaining beautiful lavatories and providing well-ventilated smoking areas for flatulent guests!
Yours Sincerely,
The girlfriend of the son of the generous and vivacious Sheba (who technically is not actually called Sheba in her day to day life)