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like the chicken into the boiling soup

by comrade commissar | Thomas | @ Wednesday, December 07, 2005, 6:28:00 PM

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I attended this banquet dinner earlier in the night. I thought I was early when I arrived at seven-forty but the entire grand hall worth of guests turned as one and fixed me with its eternal gaze of disapproval.

I explained through eye signals that I thought the invitation card said 'be seated by eight' and- the eyes didn't give a shit anyway and stabbed from different directions like I was a piece of overskewed meat, overgrilled too. Ok ok I'll shut up, and scampered about like a panicking blind tot for awhile knocking over people and utensils.

My self dignity was recovered, somewhat, when I was led to my place by an bystander waitress who couldn't stand watching the collateral damage anymore. I'm practically lifted by the scruff of my neck and pressed into my seat at my table.

"Now," she pauses for effect, "if you remain a good boy, my mood won't get any worst and you'll be served your course promptly." She turns to leave.

"Umm, excuse me miss, I-"

"WHAT."

"I'm... curious." Looking around, "How is it that every other table in this hall is packed with at least ten guests but my table only has me?"

"Well sir, may I suggest that it could be you're too bloody early. If you'll please excuse me, you're already wasting too much of my time. Enjoy the salted peanuts." I'm flashed a grin then a deadpanned face before she sort of pranced away to disappear behind the kitchen's huge doors.

Apparently its perfectly normal to everyone else but me and I had a great time making friends and conversation with myself alone at my table. No worries, everything's cool. not that the middle-aged uncle seated closest to me busy guzzling beer like its running out tomorrow minds. And then the lights dimmed, and two rolls of waiters and waitresses appeared, their faces concealed by the light of the candles placed on the trays on their shoulders.

"And they will play that same stupid kung fu sounding Chinese tune again." said the waitress who was suddenly sitting next to me.

I'm too startled to say anything. "Oh this." She continued, "Well normally I should be standing nearby to wait on a specified table, tonight being yours, but since everyone here loves you like the plague and seats are a plenty I might as well grab a chair and rest my poor legs."

What remained of my ego could no longer be sustained by life support and I pulled the plug.

OK I tried some CPR on it. "I thought the service here was world-class and no offence" I attempted a sneer, "this is the first time I came across someone like you."

"No shit sherlock. You would think with a first class diploma in mass communications and journalism I should land myself a better job during the holidays, or be a well known reporter by now, or use my talent to start on my first New York Times bestseller. I'm a temp assigned here by an external agency. Guess what, life is cruel and I'm cold and bitter. Tough luck."

"Charmed I'm sure." The waiters walk in slow coordinated steps down the aisle and turned to move to their respective tables when they reach the end of the line.

"You are dazzled by the solemn splendour of the pretty twinkling lights all around of course." Her words came from the half darkness, "This is fucking stupid campiness. What makes you think any of this is special? Nothing here is beautiful, unique or special. I've seen two dozen overcrowded Chinese weddings everywhere and the management of restaurants and hotels are not too creative people, trust me."

A silhouette of a waiter past behind me with a heavy bowl of shark's fins high on an illuminated tray.

"Did you see that guy? He was yawning. My wedding will be a small private personal affair in a cathedral attended by only close friends who care and not people who will sit down and tabulate the net worth of the contents shifting through their digestive systems at the end of the night."

I tried to impress. "My ideal matrimonial ceremony will involve a high altitude jump, terminal velocity and rushing air, and quick thumbs up to signal 'I DO' and a tug on the parachute cord."

She stared at me in the dark like I was retarded. I asked if this was true.

"You said it yourself, not me."

The lights went on again and I have a huge bowl of sharks' fins all to myself and she had magically teleported to appropriately stand at one side, appearing suitably cheerful and courteous. The supervisors are watching, she whispered through smiling teeth.

I barely helped myself to a twentieth of the enormous bowl before she forcefully took it away. "The kitchen help and me are starving." her nonchalant reply when I bawled. The MC was obviously no professional because he introduced the golden pair unto the stage like a stuttering eight year old chipmunk with ADHD about to go on his first roller coaster.

"WAHLAOEH WHY THE BRIDE SO UGLY!!!" Someone shouted from far behind, and everyone else laughed like the bride was deaf, blind and blatantly oblivious.

The rest of the night was interesting, the grouper I was served looked like it had died far too long ago, and the fried baby kai lan with oyster sauce appeared to be garnished with things that were only recently alive. I tried to register these points with my waitress when she rematerialised with the next dish. Wait.

"But the tables all around have at least a dozen scallops served on their plates."

"Quit whining. Your table only has you so we ate the rest. Be happy I saved you the biggest one. And the red wine served tonight is excellent. By the way, don't call me again. I'm busy."

Without an avenue to air my grievances I entertained myself by observing the evening's proceedings. I heard the poor hapless damsel of a bride get serenaded by her new found spouse who really can't sing. No really. This is followed by a whole bunch of embarassing alcohol-filled party games, miraculously always with participants, when it seems everyone is preoccupied with gorging themselves. And the occasional bedlam of crashing china and glass added that extra bit to the merry mental asylum atmosphere of the celebrations.

I was having such a time of my life that I couldn't help eyeing my waitress. What a looker. And just look at that, such character, energetically walking back and forth with food, drink and an expression like she could murder someone with a smile. I tried my luck.

"I THOUGHT I TOLD YOU NEVER TO CALL AGAIN."

"Umm, I was just wondering if we could be friends? My name's Thomas."

"What a corny pick up line, and what type of name is that? A more appealing name would be- nah, that one belonged to that jerk'd of an ex-boyfriend of mine."

I was in love.

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