Hit the Road Pat
Yesterday I blew off the Doctor. I just couldn't bear the thought of the two of us spending any more time together - that would have been about as exciting as watching a slug cross the patio in summertime.I sent him a txt saying that I had made other plans for the weekend because I hadn't heard from him. True, even if I didn't try to contact him myself... In response, I got a very snippy text message saying he was 'relieved that he had only RESERVED the tickets and not actually paid for them as of yet'. He followed and ended with that ever-so-British f-off word 'cheers'. Well, gee. What tickets? For what? Who? where? How was I supposed to know that he had actually made plans? By ESP? And all by himself too! I mean, this is a guy who basically asked what it would take to go on a date with me? I responded - 'for a start -it would require that you actually ASK me on a date'. So, I guess I should have programmed him to actually tell me that he was planning a date with me and to let me know what day, time and all of the necessary information. What a weenie. Glad that's done and dusted.
I was very much in the mood for a cocktail - ok a glass of wine - I always think cocktails sound so appealing, then I get to a bar and can't decide what to order and end up with wine. Anyway, I was looking forward to a night out with my best friend Lara, trolling the expat scene looking for 'Mr. Right now'. But, she had a headache and opted to go home. She promised me she would be fine for Friday night. Hmm, am I up for a Friday?....
There's a totally different vibe in the pubs and clubs on Fridays. On Thursday's there's a frenzy to get to the pub after a long, hard day at work. There's an electricity in the air because there's always the possibility that you could have the best night of your life, whipping off your suit and kicking off your heels and dancing on the tables (you really can over here)throwing caution to the wind - 'so what if I have work in the morning?'. And the possibilities...Somehow, a one-nighter seems less intrusive on a Thursday - easier to wash away the smell and feel when you have to crawl out of bed at 6:30, shower and dress for work. Sooner to forget and move on - ready for a clean, unencumbered weekend- back to normal. 'Hit the road jack' attitude. We used to have a specific 'see ya' gesture - called the 'hit the road pat'. You do it by softly patting the guy on the shoulder twice and leaving your hand there with a very small rub after the second pat. This should be accompanied by a slightly patronizing look on the face meaning 'you go along now and take it easy young man' mixed with 'I'm done with you and am a very busy, important woman - sling your hook, mate'.
Friday nights are slow and deliberate. People often have long lingering dinners somewhere fun like Como Como, the tapas bar with a conveyor belt running through the restaurant and 100 different wines by the glass. Then people slowly drift in to the pubs still in their food comas, melting and meshing in to the crowd, assessing. There's no rush to drink and get home. No work in the morning. On a Friday, One-Nighters take on a whole new shape and form. The exciting or scary possibility that this person may want to linger in bed the next day. The exciting or scary possibility that they may be gone when you turn over at first light the next morning. Makes a person get a wee bit choicy.
So, instead of a Thursday night out. I stayed in with my Bunny Dog and ate Chinese food from the Blue Lilly. The Blue Lilly is pretty crappy, but I am addicted to their Peking Duck served with pancakes, scallion strips and dipping sauce. I can walk Bunny Dog over there and we hang about in the restaurant waiting for the take away to be ready. Bunny Dog greets all of the diners, checks under their tables for wayward morsels. The owner gives him a shrimp cracker. He always sniffs it, crumbles it in to 65 (or more) pieces and then doesn't eat it. Even though it's a crappy Chinese place, the people are nice and it's right across the street.
In the middle of wrapping a morsel of yum yum duck. My mobile phone buzzes. It's another text message from the Doctor. I ignore it. 'Hit the road!'
A man and woman were at a Chinese restaurant and the waiter put a covered pot in the middle of their table. Every few seconds the lid would rise a bit and the man could see two little beady eyes looking at him, then the lid would close again. This went on for several minutes and the alarmed man called the waiter over to their table.
The Man says:
'Waiter, there's something strange looking at me from that pot you put on the table'
The waiter says:
'You did order the Peeking Duck sir!'
posted by Brussels Confidential @ 9:03 AM
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