In Bed When It's Raining -- Martinis
My son's flat is a converted warehouse. It has a corrugated iron roof.
Rain pattering on the roof all through last night made the bed twice as comfortable, the doona twice as snuggly, the pillows twice as soft...
Why is that?
Yes, it's bloody cold, wet and windy in Melbourne, so we skipped the golf - my toe is much better, thank you - and went shopping.
Apart from the shirts which I only purchased because they fit me, I bought a 1979 Maton solid-body electric guitar Jb-V1 (left-handed). Weather-beaten and aged perhaps beyond its years, but it's still a beauty to play. It looks like it should be up on the wall of some nightclub somewhere. It has a vaguely Rickenbacker type body, see below this reversed image of a similar guitar from eBay. Playing Neil Young's theme music to Dead Man. It rawks!!!
Then I went to dinner with an old friend. Mainly because she keeps telling me how wonderful I am, and we all need to hear that sort of bullshit every now and then, don't we? I gave her a copy of the Frank Moorhouse book I mentioned the other week, and in honour of that, I ordered a martini, 5:1, with 3 olives. It came with only two, but they were mother fucking big ones and unpitted. The waiter then came out with two more olives on a small bowl and apologised for getting the order wrong... Like it mattered. I nearly cancelled the entree (brains in bacon to share - not my idea) after eating all those enormous olives, I was so full!
We had a laugh, as you do, about martinis. A very Noel Coward - sophisiticated yet deeply gay - moment.
I ordered a bottle of wine: Sally's Paddock, a cab sav. The waiter brought back a bottle of Sally's Field (I kid you not!), a pinot noir. I said I like it, I REALLY like it...
We also had a laugh about the brains. The waiter was concerned that there weren't enough to go around... Ha ha. Just half a brain each I insisted. Like the staff. Ha ha. As he took the plates away later, I went to make some other comment but stumbled over my punchline. (It was still funny but I lost the timing.) Like a whip-crack however he came back with, "Obviously the brains didn't work..."
So in revenge I tabulated list of my opinions about waiters.
Hong Kong: rude and obnoxious.
Singapore: rude and indifferent.
Melbourne: cheeky and incompetent.
OTHER MONKEYS SAID
Sounds like you are having a blast... just what you needed.
Love snuggling in a warm bed when it's rainy and cold outside.
Dinner was lovely - esp all the olives!!
The book is divine - am already halfway though - but the company was very special.
not true!! Singapore waiters:
go to cedele's in great world city. They are sweetest dopiest, friendliest waiters you will ever find. They take ages to prepare anything, they constantly forget tables orders, cuttelry, the slightest hesitation on your part will screw up your order and there are hundreds of them in there grinning hopeless out from behind the counter at that tiny restaurant. It's like a kind of sport to watch them struggle with the simplest tasks. Like watching a cat chase a piece of string. lovely
btw do you have virginpornstar's no??
Ah, none of those criteria were exclusive, merely predominant over a range and history of dining experiences. As well as the incompetence you describe so well, sometimes Singaporeans can be just as obnoxious as HKers, like that guy in Chinatown selling Shanghainese dumplings who yells at you if you are eating too slowly. I think it's in Neil Rd. He could be HK Chinese actually.
VirginPornStar is way too young for me, I mean you. So don't be all internet creepy.