My First Time Eating in a Fancy Restaurant (And the Wahala That Followed)

 If you’ve ever entered a fancy restaurant and immediately felt like an intruder, then you understand my pain.

It all started when my friend, who suddenly started speaking through his nose after getting a promotion, invited me out to a “classy” restaurant. I should have known trouble was coming when I saw the menu—no price tags, just strange names like Beef Wellington and Coq au Vin. In my mind, I thought, Is this food or French furniture?

Not wanting to embarrass myself, I confidently ordered “the cheapest thing on the menu.” The waiter smiled and said, “Excellent choice, sir.” I was relieved—until they brought a plate so empty, I thought they were still setting up. In the middle of the plate sat a tiny, lonely piece of meat with some artistic sauce strokes.

I whispered to my friend, “Omo, where is the food?” He just laughed. I nearly cried.

To make matters worse, when the bill came, my heart nearly stopped. I could have bought a full bag of rice with that money! But I had to form “big boy” and smile through the pain.

Lesson learned: If you can’t pronounce it, don’t order it!