Nando's can fuck off...
I'm sorry, but when is basically doing everything yourself bar actually cooking the food, acceptable when you've gone out for a meal?
Clearly Nando's is not a restaurant, even if the big fat hens at the top do think so. The sheer cheek to expect you to cough up grotesque amounts of spondulicks for some battery chicken in pitta or rancid, dusty olives is criminal.
Bullshit.
Plus who decided that the tiny wooden cockerel on a stick, which blankly wobbles in it's condiment holster like a disregarded Xmas cracker trinket, was a sufficient means of deciding who has and who hasn't been served? A fucking child with no head could have constructed a better method.
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