Cagey Bee
Saturday was my birthday and I went out with friends until the wee hours - as you do in Brussels.I met the lovely Lara and a friend - (a VERY strong candidate for 'Mr. in the Kitchen with a Chicken'! But more on him another time) We started at PP cafe for mint daiquiris. Then a cosmopolitan.
We went to O'Reilly's and I had a glass of plonk wine and we danced to so-so 80's music until Lara had to leave - she had been suffering from a bout of flu and didn't want to push herself too soon. I went with Cutie Pie (he'd hate being called that...but it's my blog)... to Monk and met up with a couple other friends.
After a few drinks there, we marched over to Celtica - A must when celebrating anything as important as my birthday :-)) and a must when accompanied by an entourage. Too bad Aussie Girl wasn't in town...
The moment we entered the hot, steamy, smoky, packed bar we knew it was one of those crazy, wonderful Celtica nights. Wall to wall people in good moods, smiling, chatting each other up, dancing. At one point a friend decided he was going to become Tom Jones - or The 'Sex Bomb' at least. He stood behind a woman's chair and in front of all of her friends, proceeded to shimmy up and down like a pole dancer - the girls roared with laugher and feigned disapproval - they loved it! His performance included a detailed striptease without removing any clothing which made the girls squeal with delight. How funny it was.
Cutie Pie and I danced for a while and decided it was time to call it a night - or an early morning at least. We got over-the-top huge portions of frites in little paper cones and so smothered with sauces they put us off - we only ate a few and then hailed a taxi for home.
When we arrived home, I found a large wrapped package on a chair in my living room. I got a chill down my spine - the realisation that there has been someone in my house. That package was NOT there when I left earlier in the evening.
I quickly went through a mental list of friends that have my key and unless they were magicians, there's no way any of them could have gotten that present to my house that evening - I was stumped.
Strange package or not - it was my birthday - so I ripped it open like a kid at a party. The package contained a fancy foot spa of all things. One of those contraptions you fill with water and it massages, bubbles and soothes your feet. OK. Who thinks I need relaxation and home pedicures...??? Hmm.
Since it was close to 5 am, my logic told me that it must have been Lara - leaving us earlier and coming all the way back to my house at midnight - yeah, right. 5 am logic.
The phone woke me from a deep slumber at 10 am Sunday morning. It was my housekeeper's husband. They are Russian. Even though his name appeared on my phone, I was a bit foggy and didn't quite connect as to why he would be calling me on Sunday morning. In a deep, heavy Russian accent:
'Do you like your birthday present'
................
'Oh, yes, I do like it - it was so generous of you two. Thank you.'
'You are welcome'
'But, how did you know it was my birthday?'
'Remember I was KGB in Russia - I know a lot of things'
'I didn't know who came to my house in the night while I was away'
'We always look after you - you are safe'
'Wow, even when not in KGB anymore, you look after me - so nice!'
'Once KGB - always KGB - like your father - once CIA, always CIA'
(Had I told him that Dad was in the CIA????? - Don't ask)
Gulp
'Thanks VERY much for the nice gift!'
'You are welcome - have a good day - Goodbye'
posted by Brussels Confidential @ 11:25 AM
<< Home