We are intrigued by the sign.
9pm. We enter the restaurant. Excited and hungry. We are about to have the most authentic Greek experience. The restaurant is packed. We take a seat. I always get confused. Are you supposed to wait to be seated? Upsetting the server is the last thing on my agenda.
Everyone is rushing. We are approached by the waitress. I need more time. I haven’t even noticed what colour is the ceiling.
I spit out my order while she picks up the dishes from another table. I start munching on bread. Butter looks homemade. I am happy.
People keep coming. We are working on our average tasting dinner. The couple sitting next to us gets up to leave. Looks like they took too long to get their order. I wonder why time is an issue when you are on holiday.
The music is getting louder. It sounds very Greek. Not that we know well what Greek sounds like. We are happy.
I keep watching girls serving guests. One has got sweat stains on her back. Another lady is literally running holding a tray while jumping from one table to the other.
I hear a slight change in music and clapping. The lady that just served us looks like she might have had enough. She’s doing something with her arms and hips. Oh wait, she is dancing. She can dance well. Who knew?
They are bringing a table. She jumps on it. What follows next is the most seductive dance. She is rocking her curves so well. She is wearing a sweaty T-shirt and jeans, her hair is in a ponytail. She is sweaty. Her moves have transformed her to a sexy diva. Girls in Thailand got so much to learn.
Plates are smashed. Dance with fire follows next. She picks up random men from the audience. They can’t say no. She looks too fierce.
The music stops. She puts on her apron and takes the next order.