There is no place like 100 degrees in the twin cities. The service staff doesn’t speak or understand English or any language spoken by you. The manager is just as incoherent and ignorant. You start wondering if you have turned invisible upon entering the restaurant as no one seems to notice you and it is ages before you can successfully have a glass of water on your table. The plates and the cutlery seem to have last been cleaned in the Nizam’s era. You are famished by the time your order is taken and almost dead by the time your food is served which in my case was ’never’.
After an hour’s wait you get into a high pitched altercation with the manager who happens to have an IQ of a lab rat and has no idea why you are so enraged. You eventually end up storming out of the restaurant in a blind rage and set out in search of someone who can save you from starvation at that unearthly hour. Trust me; an irani cafe is much better than this dump.