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Every place I go...
As a treat for finishing my 6 documents (yes, I am finished... at least for now), I decided to browse eBay and ended up looking at Colorado real estate. (Don't ask. I started out complaining about an Eversharp fountain pen I'd won a few days ago, but that's another story.)
So knock me over with a feather when I read the following (here), in a description for a restaurant located in The Centennial State:
You need to have 100 people lined up outside the door before the joint opens, do I read you right?
Or are you trying to say that 100 is the maximum number of people you can shoehorn into your establishment?
The only interpretation that makes any sense is that the dining room in question can hold only 100 hungry souls, unless I am missing something splendid. But I consider it a personal affront that, in trying to convince me to pony up a mere $850,000 for the joint, I have to have my consciousness rattled a bit to have to stop and ask "What does that really mean?" as I read the sales pitch.
And representatives of the "who cares if it's right, as long as you understand what was meant" school of linguistics, who hold that all of us who get upset about stuff like this really need to get a life (at least that's what I think the essay -- now long lost -- said, since it wasn't, um, very clearly written), can jolly well take a flying funk at a rowing dome nut, so to speak.
Cheers...
So knock me over with a feather when I read the following (here), in a description for a restaurant located in The Centennial State:
River Ridge offers prime rib, sea food, chicken and Italian. It has a minimum seating capacity of 100.Come again, bro?
You need to have 100 people lined up outside the door before the joint opens, do I read you right?
Or are you trying to say that 100 is the maximum number of people you can shoehorn into your establishment?
The only interpretation that makes any sense is that the dining room in question can hold only 100 hungry souls, unless I am missing something splendid. But I consider it a personal affront that, in trying to convince me to pony up a mere $850,000 for the joint, I have to have my consciousness rattled a bit to have to stop and ask "What does that really mean?" as I read the sales pitch.
And representatives of the "who cares if it's right, as long as you understand what was meant" school of linguistics, who hold that all of us who get upset about stuff like this really need to get a life (at least that's what I think the essay -- now long lost -- said, since it wasn't, um, very clearly written), can jolly well take a flying funk at a rowing dome nut, so to speak.
Cheers...