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Faster than a speeding bullet

The other day I went to a Thai restaurant near my house. The food was amazing and I intended to enjoy every morsel of it. The gravy was a typical Thai red curry with white gourd and chicken. And of course, the famous Phad Thai rice. Next to our table was a table with around six men who had obviously come directly from office and were having a politely gala time drinking and sitting with each other. In fact, drinking a lot. The restaurant was decently lit, and tablecloths a pristine white with a few Thai artefacts thrown in to create an environment.

All went well till I was left with almost nothing on my plate, and no intention of reloading it. Then I decided to have that tiny bit of chicken left on my plate. I pierced it with my fork. And then came a split second which extended for minutes. My fork made a loud noise as it hit the plate. The chicken was not chicken. It was gourd. It was a hard piece of gourd that refused to be pierced by my unsuspecting fork. It was a hard piece of fork which made no qualms about skidding away from my plate and make a beeline towards my left, leaving a streak of angry red behind it.

I closed my eyes, I waited for a reaction. Any reaction. I saw there was none. The man on the table next to me refilled his glass. The waiter came and asked to refill my plate. My table fellows continued their conversation. I looked down at my plate. It was empty.

After a while I circumspectly looked at the table next to mine - it had a beautiful level, single streak of red, not leaving the cloth at even one point, slimming down as it traversed around a foot-long journey. I wondered at what speed it must have sped me. I could not locate that errant gourd.

As for me, the sooner I could leave that place, the better I felt.

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What would you do if you were me? And if you were the Man, perhaps not so dulled by alcohol?

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Comments

( 3 comments — Leave a comment )
(Anonymous)
25th Mar, 2009 09:58 (UTC)
What would you do if you were me? Look horrified, here and there. And when I realize where that stupid gourd has landed, ensure that no one has noticed, and try to act as ignorant as possible. And if someone has, then maybe call the waiter for help! And giggle to myself after leaving that place :D

And if you were the Man, perhaps not so dulled by alcohol? Look angrily (which will change to a sweet smile when I notice that it’s a pretty girl), and call the waiter for help to clean up! And once you have apologized (or said something appropriate), smile again and try to flirt (even if your Dad is with you) ;)

M
dippyblogs
25th Mar, 2009 09:59 (UTC)
Lol!
agree. except the flirting bit >
kaddu10
26th Mar, 2009 09:58 (UTC)
LOL !
I would be red faced and staring haphazardly here and there and if they noticed i would say - oops?

If i were them, .. well, that depends who was with you! :D
( 3 comments — Leave a comment )

About Me


Regurgitations of my mind. Specific, Vague, Memorable, Forgettable, Thoughtless, In-depth.

More variegated than your dreams or colours off a crystal. More than I can pen down. What I can, you can read.


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