a blog with cultural bulimia.

Friday, July 28, 2006

Second chance.

X-S and I had made plans for a night out, cocktails & dinner. Ms. M who was also joining us, suggested 'Room Service' and since I was in a very agreable mood I didn't mention my one really bad experience there. I heard they had finally got their liquor license and, boy, what a difference it made. After my first 'sex on the bathtub' (too many ingredients for me to remember) my opinion about the place had already gone through a radical transformation.

We might have been a tad obnoxiously loud but we were having too much fun. At some point, Ms M called our very demure asian waiter (VDAW) and the following exchange ensued:

Ms. M: Excuse me, could you tell me what's the special ingredient in this dish? It smells like pussy.
VDAW: Oh my God, I'm so sorry, I have to inform the chef.
Ms. M: No, don't get me wrong, I'm LOVING it.
VDAW: Oh, OK. It's fish oil.

I also learned a new version of an old vodoo. It's called sweaty rice. Ms. M is from Trinidad (and Tobago too). She told me that women there seat naked on a pile of rice, cook it and then feed their man so they never leave. You see, in Brazil we make coffee using our (worn) underwear as a filter with the same results. It works!