It has finally happened. The other day our accountant, Nelly Fyodorovna, stuck her head in the door and asked for help. The car had returned from the bank, and she needed some men to carry the bankroll upstairs. It has finally happened. Even as I write, the language of Vladivostok s pizza lovers is poised for a historic transformation.
Compact conversations like, Let s meet at the Pizzeria.
See you there at eight, will no longer be adequate. Ambiguity will spawn doubt. Jilted lovers will dash across town in the desperate hope that it was a linguistic omission, not a genuine rejection that left them contemplating the familiar menu alone. New people in town could even find Pizza M first. They may assume that the bright, colorful establishment, prominently signposted on Posietskaya Street, is, in fact, the Pizzeria, feted and fabled for so long.