Dog Idol Part 1

It’s a fact that a large percentage of Indian men over the age of 25 or so have moustaches. More accurately, they have a moustache and neatly parted, short hair. 

Behold an exemplar of this cultural subset.



If you yourself have ever observed this phenomenon and wondered at the origins and genesis of a look that spans generations; wonder no more. 

The Thunderdog Research Institute (TM) has carried out extensive work on your behalf and can now give a definitive answer to a question that has eluded both scientists and philosophers for years. 

We need to wind the clock back one day to yesterday, Saturday 28th February 2015. 

Once again, I found myself having to work on a Saturday but decided that getting a car to the office was a bad idea and that I would hire a room in the hotel. 

So.. after breakfast, I went to reception and asked to hire a room for the day, for three people. For some reason, I was shown the Boardroom, which seats 12 in splendour, but it’s the closest room to my room, so I gladly accepted. 

However, I was informed that I had to go to my room and dial 0 (Reception), where I would be transferred to the relevant desk. 

An hour and a half later, two wasted calls and no contact from the ‘sales team’, I decided that an hour on teh beach was more important and went to the desk opposite reception. Which turned out to be the relevant desk, the young bloke on there was embarassed that I hadn’t had a call back and gave me the room. 

The room was fine, but we wondered if it came with faster wifi and so a technician duly came along, listened to our questions and then sent for help. The senior technician told us that if we wanted faster wifi, we all had to sign  up for the premium wifi service. We thanked him for his help and just got on with it. 

Work was done, we went to the pool at dusk and I was invited to dinner by my German colleagues who wanted to escape the hotel and go to a restaurant nearer central Chennai. 

Being the sober and sensible person that I am, I probed for details on this restaurant, where exactly was it? What was the name? Was it listed in any guides? And finally, most importantly for my delicate palate, highly tuned taste buds and sense of general propriety, did it serve beer?

The Germans thought about it, decided that it may not and I graciously declined their offer, favouring the siren call of alchohol in huge quantities and adequate food over gastronomic perfection. Rather nicely of them, they decided that we could go elsewhere, so The Thunderdog Research Institute (TM) went into high gear and engaged the concierge desk; who under heavy questioning produced a list of five restaurants. 

I ordered us a car and waited for the evening’s delights to begin. 

Things got off to a cracking start, the favoured restaurant as provided by the concierge was almost walkable, just five minutes by car and a right turn onto the main road rather than our normal left turn for work. 

Our driver said that he would wait for us,and as giddy as schoolgirls, we trooped into the chosen venue of gastronomic  delight.  

The restaurant looked great, a huge open space and some partial views of the surrounding landscape, we were seated quickly and comprehensive menus arrived. 

Cutting swiftly to the chase, I asked for four large beers. 

“We don’t have alcohol here sir, sorry”

“That’s ok, have a great evening, goodbye”

And, leaving a slightly stunned waiter behind, we went back to the car and explained to the driver our strict criteria. He knew just the place, it was very new, well decorated, aircon and 10 minutes down the road. And he assured us that it served beer. 

We arrived at this palace of earthly delight, purveyors of delicately spiced, aromatic food , the recipes for which were handed down from the gods to chefs who have undergone ordeal by fire and chili juice and duly walked to the very attractive door. 

A neatly mustachio’d man opened the door for us and invited us in. It was still early and there were no other diners, so there werer no clues as to what might be bought. 

The Thunderdog Research Institute (TM) once again asked the question of the day.

“Before we come in, do you have beer?”

“Yes sir”

Grinning like idiots, we entered the restaurant, menus were produced as if by magic and we got into the business of serious ordering. 

One of our colleagues had decided that they would rather drink something refreshing and after a long conversation in which a number of questions were asked, the drinks order was this. 

3 beers 

Lime and soda with no added  salt or sugar, just lime and soda water. 
Starters were ordered and after 10 minutes or so a lime and soda arrived and was promptly spat back as it was full of salt.  
Oh well, their own fault for defying the god of beer who occupies a space in the pantheon next to Odin, Thor and that goddess who hides your phone. 
We were slightly concerned as no cooking seemed to be taking place until then, but after another 10 minutes things started to happen. 
No beer though. 
 

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