I recently did something
I always wanted to do. I took my parents out
for a nice dinner to a very expensive restaurant. Ordering is very difficult with my dad because he has to make sure
everyone is on the same page. Are you on the vegetable Szechuan page? I am on the veg… You are not on the
vegetable Szechuan page. You are still in soup. Kenny, come to vegetable Szechuan page. I said, ‘Dad, I can’t because
I don’t have the menu’. Because waiters do this weird thing. When they distribute the menu,
they guess who is educated or not. You get it. No, you don’t. You get it. You? No. Okay. You look like you’re going to pay.
You take it. It’s like they don’t have enough menus.
It’s my precious. There are only four in the world. You can’t print more. It’s awesome. And, waiters… I like waiters. Waiters are very different
in different restaurants. Waiters, I love. The poorer the restaurant is,
lesser shit they give about you. It’s like a privilege to have him. You haven’t decided yet.
Bloody shit. The complete opposite if you go to
an expensive restaurant. There are annoying waiters. Hi, sir. Hi. Please take a seat. Are you having a good time? Sure? Okay. Bye. In the middle of the meal, suddenly,
‘Hi. I was watching you from there’. And I hope you are having a good time. Do you like the food? You better like the food. I don’t have a family.
I have no one to talk to but… Will you marry me? No. Okay. Waiters in normal restaurants
don’t give a crap. They will get pissed off
if you send something back. Sir, there is no salt in this. Here is the salt. Waiters will try the entire meal to convince you to do something. Which is something my family did. No middle class family
has ever done in a restaurant. We ordered dessert. Yeah. We ordered dessert. Yeah. We ordered dessert. and the reason no middle class family orders dessert
because the logic every dad applies… Why are we paying Rs.150/- for one scoop of ice cream when outside for Rs.70/-
we get one kg vanilla ice cream? That too, buy one get one free.
That’s two kgs. It’s a standard rule, by the way, of ordering in
a Chinese restaurant. My mom loves Chinese
so we always go to a Chinese restaurant. Standard rule of ordering which is – one fried rice, one noodles and one gravy. Sometimes we feel crazy
and we order two gravies. That’s right. Since I was paying, we finished the meal
and my mom asked, ‘Hey, what will Savio order?’ My dad said,
‘What the hell did you just say?’ I said, ‘Dad, calm down.
It’s on me.’ So we ordered another noodles. Poor thing,
my mom couldn’t finish it. The middle class people get it. Rich people are thinking,
‘So? What’s the big deal?’ It’s a middle class family. You don’t waste food. Especially non-veg noodles! So what does
my dad decide to do? Everybody. Team work. Everybody, eat it together. Come on. You can finish it. You want.
You also eat. Come on. And the waiter came to take…
there was one noodle there. No, no. Parcel this. Tomorrow dinner is sorted. You can hate it. It’s nice. You guys can clap. Sweet. Thank you. You guys are not doing shit. My God. These rich people. Okay. I’m going to check again. How many of you have called
for the manager in a restaurant? Come on. Don’t lie. How many of you have called
for the manager? Yeah? Anyone from here? You have? You have? Okay. You guys are rich. I’ll tell you why. When poor people have food, at the end of it they thank God. Thank you we got food and they leave. We are grateful that
we have food in our belly. Rich people. No. I don’t like this.
Call the manager. I love managers. They are these mystical creatures
that appear like ninjas. Hi. Good evening, madam. Is there a problem? I heard you had a problem. I have a tingling in my,
you know, managerial DNA. Love managers.
They all look the same. They all wear the same retarded
black blazer that does not fit them. It’s never gone for dry cleaning, by the way. It’s like they hand down
that blazer from generation to generation. Son, you will grow up
and wear this. In a manager family
when a child is born, it doesn’t say mama and papa. Good evening, madam.
Can I help you? Is there a problem, madam?
You want dessert? You want dessert? No? Vanilla. No? Call the manager. That’s the thing,
poor people hate choices. We know what we want to buy before we leave the house. It’s very clear.
That’s why we left the house. Okay. Rich people have this privilege. I’ll see what I want. That’s insane. I don’t know how that feels. You go to a restaurant… Because of my shows
I travel a lot. Go to 5-star hotels. Best place. Because there is
a good mix of people who are not used to this environment
and rich people. Poor people hate choices. There was this guy trying
to order coffee. Hi, I want coffee. Sure, sir. Do you want light, cappuccino, espresso? First one. Sure. Light, medium,
dark, lethargic? Give coffee. And he ran away. He never came back. Rich people are completely opposite. They are very specific. I want eggs that are poached. While you are beating them,
please be gentle. And kiss them good night. I also want Earl Grey tea. Given to me by Earl Grey himself. The waiter has no idea what to do so he calls the manager. Hi, madam. So you wanted to have Earl Grey, huh? Sure, madam.
Give me 15 minutes. It’ll be done. You can tell a manager anything. I want UFO. Give me 15 minutes. I will find alien life on
other planets and come back. Managers do this thing
where they go into a corner. Into their managerial room. They discuss
what you just told them. It’s got nothing to do with
what you are saying but… One second. Mutton sauce, cheese roll,
butter roll, chicken… Hi, madam.
I just spoke to the head chef. I am so sorry to inform you. It’s like a baby died. I am so sorry to inform you
but we don’t have Earl Grey tea today. I’m so sorry. It’s been looked into. Two people have been killed inside.