Hello Reader. For dinner the other night I went to a restaurant called Manora. My guidebook recommended this two floor buffet style restaurant. I went in, it was mostly self-explanitory, a kind local explained the pasta station. I collect all the ingridients myself, hand them to the pasta guy, and presto, my personalized pasta is prepared. I grabbed a bowl and piled it high, I handed the bowl to the guy. An uproar of laughter followed. He held up my bowl and shouted something in German to the salad bar attendant, who then started laughing, and then shouted something to the cashier, who then started laughing. It was all so funny, it seemed, to everyone but me. What had I done? I jumped over the counter and punched him in the mouth. Well, that is what
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