‘i’ve heard good things about this lasagne,’ says @shaari_ as we park in the lot opposite bread matters urban near kaanivaa.

‘what have you heard?’ i ask.

‘well, full disclosure, that was a few years ago. i got a recommendation on twitter,’ he smiles sheepishly. should i mention he’s dressed for the occasion? yes, i should.

we’re shown our seats by the attentive server. and the seating is special here, really comfy, let me add. plus we’re the only people there. it can only mean one of two things.

‘please get me a very good lasagna,’ says shaari and the server is taken aback and smiles shyly.

when she leaves shaari explains: it’s so they’ll take extra care.

they don’t know who they’re dealing with, i think.

‘what’s on your mind, husenfulhu?’ he asks.

‘i was just thinking…’ i say.

‘what? don’t leave me hanging.’

‘we’re moving into a post-human future,’ i tell him. and maybe that is exactly what was going on in my mind.

‘here’s hoping we don’t become com-post,’ smiles shaari.

‘no i mean, hear me out – it’s like every aspect of our lives will be taken over by the machines.’

‘oh, is this because you’re losing work to AI?’ he says. ‘chat GPT?’

funny.

‘you will too,’ i tell him. ‘we all will. and then what’s gonna left? what’s our purpose if not fulfilling work? there won’t be any work to give our lives meaning.’

‘just what kind of work have YOU been doing, husenfulhu?’ shaari smiles.

the server brings our orders. shaari inspects his carefully.

‘i don’t like the colour,’ he says. ‘it’s a bit dull, unlike scoop’s. that was a nice bright red.’

i look up my post on instagram and must agree.

‘i’m getting beef curry vibes from this. the portion looks smaller than expected, too.’

he’s really taking this seriously. bless the man.

finally, he takes a bite and begins to chew.

‘it’s good, i like the beef, but it’s missing cheese. the ooey-gooey goodness.’

‘the WHAT?’ i exclaim. shaari shrugs.

i have a taste, too but something seems off. it’s the sourness of the sauce, which becomes more pronounced with each bite – it’s like it came straight out of a can! there’s that tinny, metallic sharpness.

‘i can’t finish this,’ i tell shaari.

‘what’s wrong?’ he asks.

‘it’s the sauce. too sharp for me.’

‘sharp?’

‘well, yeah. like it came out of a cheap tin.’

the server is a bit concerned about the lack of progress on my lasagne but i tell her to pack it up to take home for sampaafulhu.

meanwhile, the bill sets us back by more than 300 MVR.

‘woah,’ says shaari.

‘so, verdict?’ i ask shaari as we move towards his bike.

‘it’s definitely above average.’

‘really?’ i say. dear god, just how awful IS the average then?

he drops me off home and as we stand out by the doors i tell him i get better engagement when i post his photos.

‘yeah, but isn’t your bad, raw photography intentional? it’s your style, isn’t it?’

‘oh yes,’ i tell him quickly, slapping his shoulder and turning to exit. ‘yes it really is.’ and maybe it will be a while before the algorithm acquires the essence of my style.