By Nguyen Ayi
Dirk Diggler, renowned connoisseur and regular at Saigon’s finest bar restaurant, recently found himself at the receiving end of a most distressing snub. Much to his dismay, Dirk arrived at his beloved establishment, only to be turned away like a lonely tramp in the night. The reason? A paltry party that was set to happen a few hours hence.
As Dirk stood in front of the ostentatious neon sign that bore the establishment’s name, his signature red jumpsuit seemed to pale in comparison to the weight of his unrequited loyalty. “I can’t believe this!” Dirk lamented, shaking his head in disbelief. “I’m a regular here, I practically built this place with my unwavering patronage.”
The irate customer’s claims of exclusivity couldn’t be dismissed. Dirk had, indeed, made an art out of gracing this establishment with his presence. Yet, to his utter dismay, his importance seemed to be overlooked for the sake of a gathering that could’ve easily been held in the local telephone booth.
Adding insult to injury, Dirk couldn’t help but notice the apathy emanating from the disinterested staff. While he stood outside, desperately pleading his case, the employees nonchalantly engrossed themselves in their phones as if the very fate of the establishment didn’t rest on Dirk’s satisfied taste buds.
“I come in here, year after year, and for what? A few selfies and hashtags?” Dirk exclaimed, gesticulating wildly. “If I wanted to compete with attention-seeking teenagers in a desperate bid for online validation, I’d have stayed at home and posted videos of my talents on YouTube.”
As Dirk surveyed the scene inside, his disappointment heightened. The usually bustling place, filled with the harmonious mingling of patrons, was inexplicably desolate. The tables sat vacant, as if mocking his claims of being ousted for this noncommittal soirée. Dirk couldn’t help but fantasize about how quickly he would have been done with his meal long before the party ever began.
“I would’ve been out of here before they could even set up the punch bowl,” Dirk murmured, shaking his head disapprovingly. “Who needs a party anyway? Parties are just the desperate cries of the friendless, in dire need of glitz and distraction.”
With a final disdainful glance cast toward the restaurant, Dirk made a definitive decision. “I’ll never come back to this place again!” he declared vehemently, causing a rat perched on a nearby windowsill to take flight in fright.
As he disappeared into the Saigon night, red jumpsuit billowing dramatically behind him, Dirk Diggler vowed to find a new bastion of culinary excellence, one where his devotion would never be questioned, and staff would actually look up from their phones to greet him. Until then, the empty seats and silent dining room of his former sanctuary would serve as a stark reminder that loyalty and genuine connection sometimes count for nothing in the face of a mediocre party.