Not stirred

Pune, Maharashtra, India.

My last night

I am sitting alone in a really nice restaurant which was recommended by a colleague. 

Alone does not just refer to my table for one, but more to my restaurant for one, because I am the only customer in this entire restaurant.

A coaster with the restaurant's logo is sitting on my table has a picture of a Martini and says "Royal Orchid: shaken, not stirred."

There was no martini on the cocktail menu so I beckoned the waiter and pointed to the coaster. He squinted, leaned toward the coaster and started to crouch as if he were looking for a small stain.

I helpfully repeated the order with a "Could I please have one Royal Orchid?". He stared blankly at my face as he repeated the words "Royal Orchid" twice, slowly, and it began to feel a bit serial killery.

I stopped him repeating it a third time with a "No. No problem. I just want to know if you have martinis?". He said he didn't know so went off to the bar to check. A few minutes later he came back with a broad smile nestled under his broader mustache to proclaim that, yes indeed, yes they did offer martinis.

I order a vodka martini with an olive:

Him: "A side of olives?"

Me: "No, the olive is on a toothpick in the martini."

Him: "Side of olives and some toothpicks?"

Me: "No, just an olive for the martini, it is on the toothpick."

Him: [puzzled] "So olives, yes?"

Me: "No. No olives. Please ask the bartender for a classic vodka martini. Classic Martini. Vodka. Classic. CLASSIC MARTINI. Normal. Classic. Normal."

Him: "Certainly, sir."

10 minutes pass before he returns to the table and gingerly places a bowl of olives in front of me. Not a good sign. 

Another 15 minutes pass before he comes back with a full martini glass on the tray. I notice the liquid is quite cloudy. He sets it down and I notice 4 black olives submerged in the glass, clinging for dear life onto a plastic blue swizzle stick .

I pull one olive out to try it. The swizzle stick oozes oil, or brine, or some other liquid that is not vodka, into my glass. I taste the olive and it's revolting ... so I quickly remove the swizzle stick and lay its hostages on the table.

I taste the martini itself and it's incredibly sweet. As in 3-shots-of-lime-cordial-and-1-shot-of-vodka sweet. Actually I can't taste any vodka but assume it must be there. 

The waiter sees me wincing through my first sip and comes over as I put down the glass.

Him: "You like your drink, sir?"

Me: "Umm ... no. Not really. This is not a martini. Don't worry though ... it's fine. Just please tell the bartender for next time that you need green olives. Not black olives. And also it's got something like lime cordial in it. It shouldn't have lime cordial or juice or anything sweet like that."

Him: "Yes, lime cordial."

Me: "Martinis are not sweet. Martinis have no sugar."

Him: "Yes. Not sugar. Lime cordial"

Me: "Please tell the bartender no lime cordial in a martini"

Him: "Thank you, sir. Is the cocktail to your liking?"

Me [pauses]: "Umm ... yes. Yes it is. Thank you."

Him: "You're very welcome, sir" 

I am completely stumped, so go back to politely sipping my martini. This is customer manipulation at its finest.