Sign makers, hear me now.
YOU ARE ALL INSANE!
A couple weeks ago, after a very embarrassing incident involving staying on a London bus for too long and ending up at the garage and receiving the strangest of strange glares from the driver, and while waiting for another bus to come and take me home, I was in the general vicinity of two kebab restaurants, one across the street and one immediately to my right. Both had large signs (presumably with backlighting capabilities) which featured a store name and a slogan. To protect the identities of these stores, we will call the across-the-street store “Across the Street Kebabs†and the to-the-right store “Next to Me Kebabs.â€
Across the Street Kebabs featured a slogan which read:
“BEST KEBABS ON THE PLANET!†All caps. Exclamation point. A color scheme with the ability to induce seizures. Clearly, these kebabs are not to be trifled with.
Next to Me Kebabs’ slogan read as follows:
“Probably the best kebabs in UK.†Sentence structure. Period. White background, blue letters and a picture, for reasons that remain unclear, of a soft drink glass.
Now, tell me. Given the choice, which would YOU pick? On one hand we have overconfidence and flashiness – Let’s face facts, friends; the best kebabs on the planet are probably not in Archway, Greater London. They are probably in Turkey somewhere. It’s like ATSK is ignorant to the outside world and the simple facts of life. Should I go there, I expect heaven in kebab form. I expect thin streaks of light to pour out from behind the clouds to the tune of the Hallelujah Chorus. I expect rapture and utter bliss; we’re talking the world’s perfect first date meets heroin.
And on the other hand we have clear insecurity and a smaller claim and market audience. The slogan might as well be “Probably won’t be your favorite, so don’t even bother†or “Meh.†The only way I would visit this place is if I were on a quest for a Holy Grail made entirely of mediocrity and blandness.
I have a lucrative business plan. Perhaps you would like to get in on the ground floor, in which case you better jump ALL OVER this: I propose that a restaurant be created called “The Worst Kebabs Ever.†Here’s how it will work: Everyone will see it and it will appear to be a classy joint. Napkin holders, wine glasses, the whole kitten caboodle. They will think, “Yeah, right! These cannot possibly be the worst kebabs ever! Let’s go here and see!†(It would be packed all the time with these curious cityfolk.) They would order their drinks, eat an array of delicious appetizers, all the while skeptical… and then the kebabs would arrive. And here’s the brilliant part: They actually would be the worst kebabs in the world. During R&D we would invite kebab experts from all over the world who would school us in the way of creating the worst kebabs known to man. After they were finished, they would say, “You know… those actually WERE pretty crappy kebabs.†But they would return and bring their friends because it’s a classy joint, and their friends wouldn’t believe that these are the worst kebabs ever. But they WOULD BE.
Living in London has really opened my eyes to the world of kebabs. NEVER in the U.S. would we have kebab take-out restaurants. Instead, we have places that produce big, juicy pizzas. Which is great. But kebabs provide that worldly variety that Papa John’s just doesn’t provide, and they seem to have a magical effect on culture.
For example, as I was walking into a shop the other day, I noticed a sign (again with the signs) taped to the door. It read:
NO FOOD.
NO DRINK.
NO KEBABS.
Apparently kebabs don’t count as food and require their own category. I wonder if someone entered the shop with food and drink and had the following conversation:
CUSTOMER is sucking down a Coke and eating a burger.
CLERK approaches.
CLERK: Excuse me, sir… you can’t have that in the store.
CUSTOMER: I’m not spilling it!
CLERK: I realize that, sir, but if we let YOU have it, then we have to let everyone have it. This isn’t a restaurant.
CUSTOMER: What’s the problem? I’m the only one in here right now. I’m not making a mess, and I’m hungry.
CLERK: I don’t make the rules. I just work here. And if you spill this all over the place, I have to clean it up.
CUSTOMER: So it would be different if I had something else that wasn’t as messy?
CLERK: Our policy is no food or drink.
CUSTOMER: Well… well, what about kebabs?
CLERK: NO! NO KEBABS!
I’m wondering if kebabs need their own classification because they are not ENTIRELY food. My understanding of a kebab is that it would no longer be a kebab with no stick (just as a popsicle would no longer be a popsicle). But no one confuses popsicles for being not entirely food. If you can explain this phenomenon, you win a soda.
And – just for kicks! – a kebab. Just don’t eat it in the shop.
