We’re in Sydney. Last night my Australian relatives brought us for dinner at this restaurant called Black. As we walked in:
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Shorty: *looking at surroundings* Hmm… this restaurant doesn’t quite live up to its name.
Me: What’s wrong? Not black enough for you?
Shorty: Yes. I expected complete darkness. BLACK.
Me: Maybe they lit it up because it would be too dark to eat.
Shorty: I thought once you go black you never go back.
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The steak arrives.
My Dad: I think the steak is too rare. We ordered medium.
My Aunty: Yeah too rare.
Me: Let me try. *tries*… no it’s okay what I think it’s medium.
My Dad: No it’s too rare. I’m gonna send it back.
Me: Okay.
5 minutes later the steak come back looking like charcoal pieces.
Me: This restaurant is totally living up to its name now.
My Dad: Oh no.. now it’s too overcooked.
Me: Yes Dad. Gordon Ramsay would throw a fit if he knew we just “well-doned” Wagyu steak.
My Dad: Who?
Me: Uhh I mean.. any famous chef would…
My Dad: I’m going to tell them.
Me: I don’t know what they can do about it this time Dad.
My Dad: Nevermind just want to tell them.
Me: *looks at Shorty* What do you think they’re gonna do? Uncook the steak?
Shorty: Maybe they’ll just put it back into the fridge.
Me: HAHAHA.