A Royale With Cheese

It was a cold and wet Winter's Thursday evening, the kind of evening that makes you go "Hey, let's sit down and have a meal at Royale Burger, in Long Street, Cape Town". And so it came to pass that we sat down and had a meal at Royale Burger, in Long Street, Cape Town. Royale is an interesting venue, boasting a 50's Grease-Lightening styled theme, innovative decor and design, and substantially large burgers, the size of a small Cape suburb. Many an evening had been spent gorging on one of their famous Federale Burgers, getting pissed at the bar upstairs (called, interestingly enough, "Upstairs") and then proceeding to physically roll home, using sheer will power and the momentum of a stiff kick from The Girlfriend's steel-tipped boot.

Plans to follow in this proud tradition were going swimmingly - I had just devoured my meal like a hungry lion, whilst drinking copious amounts of beer, and the disgusted look on The Girlfriend's face meant a stiff kick in the solar plexus was imminent.

I had just finished my 27th Windhoek, when my spider sense suddenly kicked in, alerting me of impending danger. Instinctively I did a forward roll into a defensive stance, expecting a karate kick from The Girlfriend, but she was still stretching and warming up, and an attack from her side was still minutes away. Then I saw the source of my danger radar - a rather pretentious looking cockroach had sauntered in, mouthing off to the patrons in a rather derogatory manner. He scurried around from one table to the next, causing great alarm and distress to the easy-going customers, who just wanted to enjoy a good meal and were now being treated to the greatest disrespect from the feisty Parktown prawn. Seemingly inebriated, he clearly had his Beer Coat on, looking for a fight, but he quickly met his match when a rather annoyed patron whipped off her Green Cross sandal and smashed him to pieces in one smooth motion.

Everyone cheered and clapped in mutual appreciation, but our joy was short lived as another roach soon entered the fracas, cursing obscenities from the nearby wall above us in a rather vulgar manner. At this, we then decided to get the bill, and proceeded to leave in a hurry, our ears still burning from the foulmouthed tirade of the wretched pest.

Royale, one roach was bad enough, but two is simply unacceptable. Me thinks it's time to call in the Pest Control, or I may have to have my burgers elsewhere.



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