Stinga soup

[zyrom]

He sat pondering on the park bench, the autumn was all around him with its yellow collors and bitter wind.
He saw that the bodocs where migrating to the south, the winter wold soon be here.

He was not a happy man now days, his favorite restaurant was no longer a place where he could relax and enjoy a good meal.
He still remembered the day he found it in one of the more ensconced alleys of the city.

He had been looking trough the newspaper when he had found a piece about a man that wanted to open a new restaurant, it seemed that he wanted it to be different from the other restaurants in the city, something speciall, he had read one and goten excited, it seemed that this new place was exactly the thing he had been looking for. So he had put on is overcoat and taken a walk to see if it was all that he had read about.

He had long been looking for a place to eat in peace and quite, there where plenty of restaurants in the city.
But he wasn't to keen on any of them, they where either very very noisy, or the service was awfully, or they all served stinga. Not that there was anything wrong with stinga, but he just didn't like it.
And he could never really figure out the people that loved stinga, they seemed to not be able to understand that other people did not absolutely love the stuff. So he generally tried to stay away from the stinga places.

After a short walk he found it, it had newly built look about it, he went over and looked at the menu, and to his delight, there where only one course that offered stinga.
He went in, and the place was packed with people. This being the opening day and all, the first meal was free.

After a little while he found a free table, and sat down, almost immediately a very friendly waiter appeared and took his order.
The food was delicious, and promptly served. There where some minor errors along the way, the wine he had ordered did not come until he had asked twice, and instead of a fork he had received a spoon. But what could one expect on a day as this? With so many customers and a newly opened place. He had overheard some conversations that the owners of the place where new to the bussines, so he thought that they could be excused.

The best part was that there was no stinga, he saw several people come in in and loudly complain about it though. But all in all it was a very pleasant meal, and the place was delightfully mad up, it seemed that the architects and artisans that had decorated the place where truly masters.

After that first day he was a happy man, he went there every day to eat, an on sundays he used to go down there to have his breakfast. He could even just go in to take a cup of clava and chat with the other customers. He made many friends here, and it was a good place to go to when he felt a bit down, or wanted to get away from the day to day hustle of the world outside.

He recommended the place to all his friends, saying that it was a delightful place where the waiters where friendly and prompt, and the atmosphere like no other place in town.

In the course of the year, other restaurants opened in the neighborhood. He usually tried them once, but they all served stinga. The biggest was the one called the The Big Stinga down the road where the stench of hit could be felt for a couple of blocks around. So he never stayed for long. But they seemed to be inordinately popular, these stinga places, and seemed to be making dapers by the mek load.

It looked like the restaurant prospered, but after a while, the regulars noticed that the menu hardly changed, and they started asking for some variation on the menu, they did this because, if you read on the back on the menu it said that the management really wanted to know what the customers thought and wanted, and the owner seemed genuinely concerned that this should be a restaurant where his guests should be able to influence the menu.
So several of the regulars started to compose ideas for additional courses, that could be added. But the menu never really seemed to change to much. The rumor started that the restaurant really didn't do to well and that the rich merchants that had lent the owner dappers so that he could open the place whern't to happy.

One day there was a note with the menu, in short it said that management had listened to the customers and was going to change the menu a bit, to maybe try to make the place a bit more popular, and get some more customers. That they had looked around at the other restaurants to see what made them so popular and it seemed that the lack of stinga in the menu was the main obstacle. It went on to say that it thought that the way the other restaurant served stinga was all wrong, and that they really didn't want to be a stinga restaurant. And they would figure out a much better way.
The note also mentioned that as a start they would convert one of the rooms of the restaurant to a stinga room, so that anyone that wanted stinga could go there.
Our man, and many of the regular customers, where a bit skeptical about this, but they had faith in the owner since up till now he had pretty much done a good job. And they had all read the backside of the menu where he had talked about his vision of the place, and they all loved that very much. Most of them also thought that since it would be in a separate room, it would be ok as the ones that didn't like stinga didn't have to enter.
Our man was not to happy about how it turned out though, the room they selected happened to be the one that you had to go through to get to the restroom, there where other restrooms in the place but they where not as accessible as the one that lay next to the stinga room.

In then end tuened out that it didn't matter much since the room was usually deserted of customers. A couple of times the restaurant organized "stinga nights" where they served all sorts of stinga, he had tried it once or twice, but he really didn't like it much.
And so it went for a couple of months, in the mean time there was a new announcements by the management that a new menu was beeing worked on.

All the regular customers where very excited about this, and the discussions where flowing back and forth about the new menu, some wanted more meat, others thought that soups would be a nice additions and some wanted more stinga, now that last sparked a furious discussion, a questionare was circu
lated, and the results showed that the customers where not to happy about the thought of more stinga, they thought that there where enough stinga restaurants around, and that if you wanted some you could go to one of the other places, specially since the place wasn't really designed as a stinga place from the beginning.
The management had relplied that they was aware of their customers concerns at was listening intently. After a time a new bulletin was pasted on the back of the menu saying that the management had put together a stinga team that would look into the issues.

Then "stinga nights" started to become more frequent. Our man was not happy, but he could live whit it, he just avoided those days as best as he could.

The day when the new menu was to be introduced arrived, and our man went down very exited, the restaurant had even closed prematurely the day before to prepare for the introduction. When he entered, he could see that they had added a new wing to the place, excitedly he entered and took a place, it was really nice, with new furniture and and new paintings on the walls, he sat down and grabbed the menu. But his disappointment was great, all the entries on the menu had stinga as an ingredient, not even the dessert was free from it. He also noticed a note saying that all customers in the
stinga wing would receive a bonus point for each meal and that the the ones with the most points would be entitled to discounts each month, and have their names printed on the hall of fame poster at the entrance.

He left the place, and went for a walk, but he was hungry, so he returned and sat down at his regular place, but it want the same any more, the smell of stinga was starting to spread all over the place.

The uproar from the other customers was great, some just left wowing never to come back. Some was screaming at the management that this was an outrage. Some tried to write petitions asking if they couldn't have some of the courses, but with out the stinga? please?. Some wondered why the bonus points only applied to the ones in the stinga wing and not the the regular customers that had been there for a long time. The ones that really really liked stinga, where overjoyed, and overindulged in it, throwing it around the place, to the merriment of the rest of the stinga eaters.

Some tried to enter the wing and order the regular course, but where soon chased out by the others, saying that this was a stinga room, and if you wanted to sit there, you had to have stinga.

One faction stood against the other, the ones that liked stinga against the ones that didn't. And there where extremes on both sides, the ones that liked it meant that the ones that didn't could just leave, and the ones that didn't meant that they had a right to have some stinga free meals in the the new wing and that if they wanted stinga they could have gone to the Big Stinga down the corner. The worst of the stinga liker's would take a big plate of stinga and venture out into the regular room and sit down to eat, saying that they had as much right to be there as anyone else. And both where complaining that the other side was spoiling their meals.

Our man, had put down is napkin, and walked out the door, the only thing he wanted was a quite restaurant where he could eat his meal, preferably without stinga.

So now he sat on the bench in the park looking at the kipees in the distance. Wondering how long it would take before things quited down. And it probably was time to look for another restaurant. It was a pity, he had really liked the place. But most of all he felt a bit sorry for the owner, whose vision and dream now seemed be no more.