Dinner with a Sting

Q: When is a dinner out not just a dinner out? If you said, when it is a celebration, you would be right, but, there’s another answer too. When it is a sting operation.

Let me explain.

A friend has a friend who has a restaurant. The restaurant (which shall remain un-named) is run by a manager. The friend’s friend (i.e. the owner) suspects that the manager is cheating him, by generating hand-written bills for some customers and pocketing the cash.

Enter the Dreadful Duo. (That’s Amit and me, in case you were wondering.) Go have dinner there and collect a bill, the friend instructed us. And keep your eyes open while you’re there (not that I usually dine with my eyes shut) and see what kinds of bills other customers get.

Act 1 Scene 2: The Dreadful Duo enter the restaurant, eyes open, senses on high alert. We seated ourselves strategically in this charming little restaurant and craned our necks this way and that to see what kinds of bills other diners were getting. Then we thought we might appear a bit suspicious ourselves, so we indulged in muted conversations and, instead of craning our necks, let our eyes roll around in every direction, sneakily. If the restaurant had served alcohol, people might have thought us a little drunk. Since it only served fresh lime soda, I wonder what they thought.

At any rate, they must have thought us more than a bit strange because, whenever a waiter approached or passed us, Amit would kick me on the shin to warn me to shut up (if I happened to be speculating on the nature of the bill, which I mostly was). And whenever a table had apparently finished their meal, Amit would stare fixedly in their direction until they were presented with a bill and then he would all but get up and go stand behind the host to see whether it was hand-written or not.

All our observations (and while we dined, we caught a glimpse of a grand total of two bills!) led us to conclude that computer-generated bills were being presented, hence indicating that everything was above board and that the friend’s friend was being unjustly suspicious.

Then came our turn. The waiter approached with the bill. He delicately (but tactlessly) placed the folder in front of me. Then he withdrew. With bated breath, Amit watched as I opened the folder. Fully aware of the tension, I slowly lifted the flap and saw: Rs 245. Ok, that’s not too bad, I thought (the food was actually rather good). And then I realized I was supposed to be looking at the bill, not the amount (a rather difficult thing to do, I should tell you; you must try it some day).

It was hand-written.

With some difficulty I restrained Amit from pouncing on the manager there and then. Calmly, I paid up. Should we tip? Why, asked Amit, they’re pocketing the entire bill amount anyway. Good point.

Feeling rather smug with the indisputible success of our sting operation, we headed home.