A man sits in the restaurant and scolds like a Rohrspatz. He did not like the food, he does not like potatoes. He finds potatoes terrible. He can not even suffer from French fries. It’s like a personal insult when you put potatoes on your plate.

The waiter asks the belligerent to calm down, to dampen his voice a bit. Other guests might feel disturbed …

The potato hater, however, does not let his verbiage go dry until the waiter promises to bring in the cook. With sinister mine, the man stares at the kitchen door through which the monster responsible for the gruesome food on the plate will come. And for the malaise, because after all, he has emptied the plate – and now he is sick. He would like to say everything, wishes he had never seen this dish.

The cook comes to the table. “Was something to suspend food?”

Potatoes are disgusting, they sin against humanity when you make such a thing! “

“Were the potatoes too soft,” asks the cook in amazement, “or too floury?”

“The potatoes were potatoes! An insult to the good taste! An impertinence!”

Waiter and cook look at each other at a loss. They do not understand what the angry guest is so outraged about.

“So you did not like it”, the waiter tries to lay a certain foundation for the further discussion.

“Of course not, potatoes are terrible.”

“So I misunderstood your order, you wanted another dish?”

The guest shakes his head. “You probably do not understand what I mean?”

“Frankly – no.”

Even the cook is at a loss. “We get fresh goods every afternoon, so far there have never been complaints,” he explains.

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The guest is again unpleasantly loud: “It’s not about whether the food is fresh! It’s not about the preparation! It’s about that you offer potatoes!”

“But – well – you are aware that our restaurant also offers pasta dishes, rice dishes and, for example, tarte flambée?”

Surely you also have good food, “scolds the man,” but I just ate potatoes in your restaurant, why do not you just understand me … “

The chef takes a menu at hand. “You ordered which dish?”

The index finger of the guest points to the entry: Colorful potato pan with spinach and beef tomatoes .

The waiter says: “There is potato, potato pan.”

“Did you overlook that?” the cook asks.

“No.”

“So you knew you were ordering a potato dish?”

“Yes.”

“And why did you order it if you do not like potatoes?”

The man puts ten euros on the table and gets up. As he leaves the bar, he murmurs, “These people just do not understand, they do not understand …”

A man sits at the computer and scolds like a Rohrspatz about the writer. He did not like the lyrics, he does not like horror stories. He finds horror terrible. Not even thrillers with a lot of blood, he can suffer. It’s like a personal insult when you present him with a bloody knife in a story …