Haram Bros
It was a chilly evening out with the boys when a collective hunger grew in our midst. Where were we, a group of young men, to eat? Let's try the Halal Guys; surely there must be something behind the hype; alas, there was not. The whole dinner experience proved to be an immeasurable amount of disappointment from the moment I stepped through the grimy door.
Upon entering the "restaurant," I was greeted with a pungent kick to the nose, reminiscent of a bad egg. Ignoring this clear warning sign, I walked up to the assembly line and watched the server pile half my combo plate with lettuce.Thankfully when I got there, there was little rush, so it was the perfect time to make pleasant conversation with the staff. I asked a rhetorical question about the display fries, thinking the server would know that I knew they were just for display, but my comedy must have been too advanced for him. Instead, he just looked unhappy to see me. The whole time I was thinking to myself, "wow, I have never been burned so badly by a piece of wood." After the unpleasant encounter, I received my "meal," and sat down. The establishment itself was quite small, so after I received my food and sat down, the restaurant quickly filled up with students from a nearby institution. The rush became so deadly, one of the employees had to resign his post temporarily to divert the crowd outside, creating an uncomfortable eating experience, despite the fact that I had not even begun eating at this point.
Next came the consumption of meal, and what a painful ordeal it was indeed. The first few bites, I saw not as food, but mere filler to patch the gaping hole in my stomach. Once I was a little more full, I began to realize what a terrible mistake I had made. Only then did the grease and viscous slop sink in, into my conscious and my intestines. But there was no going back. With each bite, a small morsel of the fatty meat and rice, coated with a decently tasting but very viscous white sauce, somehow adhered to the inside of my throat. I could feel my arteries clogging. All the while, a cacophony of obnoxious contemporary (and not very Halal) music was blasting through the speakers of the restaurant. Perhaps I could find some solace with the lettuce, but it was of no assistance. The heat of the rice and meat wilted the lettuce, so it was not the crisp, watery relief I was seeking. I pushed myself to eat approximately 5/8 of the dish, but I could go no further, not with the inner environment of the restaurant. I stepped outside with my meal to join some friends who were also outside at the time, hoping that maybe I could finish the meal away from the punishing conditions of the restaurant. While I was able to stomach a few more bites, it was overall, ineffective. My insides were shutting down, and I lost all ability to taste food. The rest of the meal ended up thrown away. May God have mercy on the raccoons rummaging through the bin.
Upon entering the "restaurant," I was greeted with a pungent kick to the nose, reminiscent of a bad egg. Ignoring this clear warning sign, I walked up to the assembly line and watched the server pile half my combo plate with lettuce.Thankfully when I got there, there was little rush, so it was the perfect time to make pleasant conversation with the staff. I asked a rhetorical question about the display fries, thinking the server would know that I knew they were just for display, but my comedy must have been too advanced for him. Instead, he just looked unhappy to see me. The whole time I was thinking to myself, "wow, I have never been burned so badly by a piece of wood." After the unpleasant encounter, I received my "meal," and sat down. The establishment itself was quite small, so after I received my food and sat down, the restaurant quickly filled up with students from a nearby institution. The rush became so deadly, one of the employees had to resign his post temporarily to divert the crowd outside, creating an uncomfortable eating experience, despite the fact that I had not even begun eating at this point.
Next came the consumption of meal, and what a painful ordeal it was indeed. The first few bites, I saw not as food, but mere filler to patch the gaping hole in my stomach. Once I was a little more full, I began to realize what a terrible mistake I had made. Only then did the grease and viscous slop sink in, into my conscious and my intestines. But there was no going back. With each bite, a small morsel of the fatty meat and rice, coated with a decently tasting but very viscous white sauce, somehow adhered to the inside of my throat. I could feel my arteries clogging. All the while, a cacophony of obnoxious contemporary (and not very Halal) music was blasting through the speakers of the restaurant. Perhaps I could find some solace with the lettuce, but it was of no assistance. The heat of the rice and meat wilted the lettuce, so it was not the crisp, watery relief I was seeking. I pushed myself to eat approximately 5/8 of the dish, but I could go no further, not with the inner environment of the restaurant. I stepped outside with my meal to join some friends who were also outside at the time, hoping that maybe I could finish the meal away from the punishing conditions of the restaurant. While I was able to stomach a few more bites, it was overall, ineffective. My insides were shutting down, and I lost all ability to taste food. The rest of the meal ended up thrown away. May God have mercy on the raccoons rummaging through the bin.
Yassssss
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