There's a conspiracy to make us eat greens today.
At the home-style chinese restaurant in International Plaza, he looked at me, grinned and asked me what I want to order, because Chinese food is almost always communal and it's unspoken that one shares with whoever's at the table. I slid him the menu and smiled. "Take a look." I have been there a couple of times already and it's his virgin tryst. "We'll look together," said the extremely well-mannered person.
I told him the house specialty is the claypot braised chicken and it really is not bad at all. Accomodatingly and gamely, he nodded enthusiastically. Then came the death blow. Apparently, he loves kangkong-s and he wanted to order a plate. Er...well I don't really eat kangkong-s but I din tell him that. He is so super nice that I want to be nice too. So I encouraged the choice and make appropriate little noises that can in no way be construed as disgust or objections.
Then he spotted fish head curry on the menu and (yay!) we opted to chuck kangkongs in favour of that. Are you sure, I asked. And I told him of how usually the person taking orders will be freaked that we are just only ordering meat.
And so it happens:
"Er, you sure you want chicken and fish curry? Why not get veggies instead? You sure can finish anot?
Hello, it's two dishes only and really, it's bloody none of your business what we want to order. Stop making us feel bad.
We looked at each other, raised eyebrows and I said, "Original plan." So he told the person to just please, we shall have these.
Then the person returned 10 mins later:
"Er, sorry hor, your fish curry must wait 15 more mins. You can a not?"
All these, I may have imagined it, but I was quite sure were said in a half-sneer.
Then 5 mins later, same person said:
"Wah sorry hor, curry sold out. You want to order veggies a not?"
What the !@#$%&*. You must be kidding.
Anyway, we eventually did order the kangkong-s, as well as a plate of stir-fried sliced fish with ginger.
*
He is a most enjoyable lunch companion. Aesthetically pleasing, standing at 1.8m, a Japanese-lookalike and dressed in the way I appreciate (oversized shirts with layers and jeans) in guys, I almost forgive him for having no veins. It helps that he is only a couple years older and also the youngest in his department (till I cross over) that we discover we have quite a lot in common. As a template, he also embodies the qualities I like in men. Like how subtly, he would stretch out to open doors for me without making me feel it's too deliberate a cliche. When we cross the road, he will walk in such a way that he is shielding me from traffic and makes me feel safe. While eating, he will always serve me first, makes me feel respected and good about myself through his concern and care that is dished out just right. Any more, I would have puked; any lesser would have to minus marks. He is also generous and flexible. Our budget for lunch ballooned to twice more than the planned but he doesn't even breathe a word of complaint.
*Yeah, I like to be treated like a lady. Though people who followed me through my latest tempestuous pseudo relationship might beg to differ. Let me just qualify by saying that very, very superficially, I might be attracted to cavemen descendants ie rough, coarse and harsh (there's just an element I can't quantify that is quite adorable) and make myself utterly miserable in the process of dating, it is almost always a brief dalliance and flirtation with danger. He (generically speaking) doesn't have to be my-lunch-companion-nice but I hope he tries at times to treat me right, and getting these times right, of course*
But back to my lunch companion, it's fun to be together also 'coz we have reached the comfortable stage whereby we are exchanging personal lives and issuing advice. And updating him on my latest misadventures, he was very much amused. He was also extremely apologetic about my disasterous KL trip and horrified to hear that I din eat KL food, blaming himself for it. Pls, don't be silly, I said. It's not your fault. He's only supposed to let me know what's fun to play and eat in KL. But despite being Malaysian, he has never been to KL so he said he would ask his friends for me. It didn't work out but I'm okay. Well, is he a well-mannered, kind, cute person or what.
He is also Uncle Agony. Being married (ha! bet you din see this coming!!! I was even introduced to his wife before) and going through similar experiences (he is also the awful strong silent type who tortured his then girlfriend, now wife to no end during courtship days), he offers perspective from the other end of a long, dark tunnel. It's always very fun to feign indignation and get all worked up when he explains that really, it's quite obvious. Then I'll poo-poo and remark impetuously with mock vehemence, sorry lor; you must say also, else how I know. As he gives me the archetypal male explanation which is applicable in my situation, I marvel at how simple everything actually is. He also tells me not to underread and hurt feelings. And he also slightly horrified me when he affirmed my sneaking suspicion I have sent out the wrong signals to the person I like.
So it's good reason to celebrate when he told of how he is only doing his Masters next year and his own leaving will be deferred. I will be transferring to his department in a month and I feel safer knowing I have at least one friend I can trust there. And he is so talented that if I don't know anything, I can ask him. More lunches; more catharsis; more long boring blog entries like this.
Hey, Jude, don't make it bad
Take a sad song and make it better
Remember to let her into your heart
Then you can start to make it better
Hey, Jude, don't be afraid
You were made to go out and get her
The minute you let her under your skin
Then you begin to make it better.
And any time you feel the pain, hey, Jude, refrain
Don't carry the world upon your shoulders
Well don't you know that its a fool who plays it cool
By making his world a little colder
Hey, Jude! Don't let her down
You have found her, now go and get her
Remember, to let her into your heart
Then you can start to make it better.
So let it out and let it in, hey, Jude, begin
At the home-style chinese restaurant in International Plaza, he looked at me, grinned and asked me what I want to order, because Chinese food is almost always communal and it's unspoken that one shares with whoever's at the table. I slid him the menu and smiled. "Take a look." I have been there a couple of times already and it's his virgin tryst. "We'll look together," said the extremely well-mannered person.
I told him the house specialty is the claypot braised chicken and it really is not bad at all. Accomodatingly and gamely, he nodded enthusiastically. Then came the death blow. Apparently, he loves kangkong-s and he wanted to order a plate. Er...well I don't really eat kangkong-s but I din tell him that. He is so super nice that I want to be nice too. So I encouraged the choice and make appropriate little noises that can in no way be construed as disgust or objections.
Then he spotted fish head curry on the menu and (yay!) we opted to chuck kangkongs in favour of that. Are you sure, I asked. And I told him of how usually the person taking orders will be freaked that we are just only ordering meat.
And so it happens:
"Er, you sure you want chicken and fish curry? Why not get veggies instead? You sure can finish anot?
Hello, it's two dishes only and really, it's bloody none of your business what we want to order. Stop making us feel bad.
We looked at each other, raised eyebrows and I said, "Original plan." So he told the person to just please, we shall have these.
Then the person returned 10 mins later:
"Er, sorry hor, your fish curry must wait 15 more mins. You can a not?"
All these, I may have imagined it, but I was quite sure were said in a half-sneer.
Then 5 mins later, same person said:
"Wah sorry hor, curry sold out. You want to order veggies a not?"
What the !@#$%&*. You must be kidding.
Anyway, we eventually did order the kangkong-s, as well as a plate of stir-fried sliced fish with ginger.
*
He is a most enjoyable lunch companion. Aesthetically pleasing, standing at 1.8m, a Japanese-lookalike and dressed in the way I appreciate (oversized shirts with layers and jeans) in guys, I almost forgive him for having no veins. It helps that he is only a couple years older and also the youngest in his department (till I cross over) that we discover we have quite a lot in common. As a template, he also embodies the qualities I like in men. Like how subtly, he would stretch out to open doors for me without making me feel it's too deliberate a cliche. When we cross the road, he will walk in such a way that he is shielding me from traffic and makes me feel safe. While eating, he will always serve me first, makes me feel respected and good about myself through his concern and care that is dished out just right. Any more, I would have puked; any lesser would have to minus marks. He is also generous and flexible. Our budget for lunch ballooned to twice more than the planned but he doesn't even breathe a word of complaint.
*Yeah, I like to be treated like a lady. Though people who followed me through my latest tempestuous pseudo relationship might beg to differ. Let me just qualify by saying that very, very superficially, I might be attracted to cavemen descendants ie rough, coarse and harsh (there's just an element I can't quantify that is quite adorable) and make myself utterly miserable in the process of dating, it is almost always a brief dalliance and flirtation with danger. He (generically speaking) doesn't have to be my-lunch-companion-nice but I hope he tries at times to treat me right, and getting these times right, of course*
But back to my lunch companion, it's fun to be together also 'coz we have reached the comfortable stage whereby we are exchanging personal lives and issuing advice. And updating him on my latest misadventures, he was very much amused. He was also extremely apologetic about my disasterous KL trip and horrified to hear that I din eat KL food, blaming himself for it. Pls, don't be silly, I said. It's not your fault. He's only supposed to let me know what's fun to play and eat in KL. But despite being Malaysian, he has never been to KL so he said he would ask his friends for me. It didn't work out but I'm okay. Well, is he a well-mannered, kind, cute person or what.
He is also Uncle Agony. Being married (ha! bet you din see this coming!!! I was even introduced to his wife before) and going through similar experiences (he is also the awful strong silent type who tortured his then girlfriend, now wife to no end during courtship days), he offers perspective from the other end of a long, dark tunnel. It's always very fun to feign indignation and get all worked up when he explains that really, it's quite obvious. Then I'll poo-poo and remark impetuously with mock vehemence, sorry lor; you must say also, else how I know. As he gives me the archetypal male explanation which is applicable in my situation, I marvel at how simple everything actually is. He also tells me not to underread and hurt feelings. And he also slightly horrified me when he affirmed my sneaking suspicion I have sent out the wrong signals to the person I like.
So it's good reason to celebrate when he told of how he is only doing his Masters next year and his own leaving will be deferred. I will be transferring to his department in a month and I feel safer knowing I have at least one friend I can trust there. And he is so talented that if I don't know anything, I can ask him. More lunches; more catharsis; more long boring blog entries like this.
Hey, Jude, don't make it bad
Take a sad song and make it better
Remember to let her into your heart
Then you can start to make it better
Hey, Jude, don't be afraid
You were made to go out and get her
The minute you let her under your skin
Then you begin to make it better.
And any time you feel the pain, hey, Jude, refrain
Don't carry the world upon your shoulders
Well don't you know that its a fool who plays it cool
By making his world a little colder
Hey, Jude! Don't let her down
You have found her, now go and get her
Remember, to let her into your heart
Then you can start to make it better.
So let it out and let it in, hey, Jude, begin
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