Suj's 30th

But before then, I went directly from work to Indigo to meet the lovely Rose. We immediately went to Buffet Maharaja so she could indluge in her favourite food, buttered Indian chicken, or Indian buttered chicken, or something like that. It was almost like that scene in When Harry Met Sally. She really likes that hot buttered chicken.

Over to Brutopia then, and I dragged her there even though she was tired from the long week at work. I had dinner and we waited for Liz to arrive, who was waiting for Jano to get there. That was a first time meeting. The two women had been talking for a little while before finally having met that night. They went on about some girly things that I can't recall; I ate and Rose became comatose due to the alcohol she had consumed and the long week she had endured. She became an casualty of war; when we left to meet Suj at nine, she left to crash at my place. I am lucky she did. Read on.

Suj got there minutes after we did. The place (Grumpy's) was dead. The four of us counted as two-thirds of the people at the bar. The bartender, Sammy (or Sami, he looked like he could have been like a Samir) grudgingly served us like a serf until the place picked up. It didn't help when Liz got drunk and tried to make a slave out of him and every other guy in the bar.

When Liz drinks, she likes to make men (especially young men) do her bidding. Nothing salacious, just things such as making these saps talk to her/us, or sing Happy Birthday to Suj, or bark like a dog. I especially like it when she talks about "boys". It makes her sound like Zsa Zsa Gabor or something.

I met some Israeli guys about 18 years old that were about to go back to Israel and do their army duty. We waxed philosophical about exploring the world and breaking out of the regularities of life while some guy in his sixties tried to convince them that they were wrong in participating, as if they had a choice.

Suj and I started talking about being sons of immigrants and the familial values that many such visible minority immigrants have. And then we got sappy and somehow turned the attention to me, even though it wasn't my birthday. I must thank them for the kind words, even though I can scarcely rememebr them for the drink (just kidding). Even Jan-O, who I met just hours before. (Hawaii Jan-O. That woman needs a logo or a theme song or something. She was always smiling. I wonder what she's like when pissed off.)

Speaking of drink, it was those damn shots that appeared out of nowhere and kept invading my liver with their apparent innocence. I don't know how many I had, or what I had, but they were the reason why my drinking plans went way off. I got home at 2:30 am and got into bed with Rose. Apparently I stank of booze, told her that I was druuuunk (in French no less) and passed out. Snoring. Loudly. I couldn't get out of bed until 12 hours later.

Thankfully she was well-rested and compassionate enough to take care of me by giving me water and pills to take away the pain and sat by my side (or maybe that last part was a dream). When I did get up I knew that I had forgotten my laptop somewhere, though. I was sure that I put it under the table at Brutopia, but that wasn't the case. Laura, the head chef there was looking all over the place frantically for the thing. I called Buffet Maharaja at around 4 to find it, but they said that it wasn't found. Of course, the man didn't seem to check. Rose and I finally went down there to pick it up and there it was, naturally.

I guess I will have to cut it off here. I am about to enter a three-day meeting which will end day 1 around 7 tonight. Yippee.