Sorry, we're out of shwarma.

Last night at about 2 in the morning, George and I drove to McDougal Street in search of something to eat. We were both hungry and wanted something quick but not necessarily McDonald's. We parked the car along West 3rd Street in front of the Fat Pussycat Bar and walked over to Mamoun's Falafel joint.

"Let me have a shwarma, please," George tells the young guy behind the counter.
"Sorry, we're out of shwarma."
"Okay, let me get a falafel."

George turns to me and imitating a customer we had at Bogota Sunday night says, "Oh, you're out of shwarma? I should get a free drink."

We both laughed. It never ceases to amaze me the reasons people will use to get the restaurant to give them a free drink. Even when we've acquiesed, they've always left trashing the restaurant on the comment cards we provide them. AND they never return anyway.