Sunday, 27 April 2008

Lets go dutch!

Its not what i hear often, in my dating career I have always learnt a cardinal rule "whenever you go on a date, always eat what you can afford". I am a modern day spinster, i support the notion that if a man asks a lady out on a first date he MUST pay for it. Then where does lets split it in half come in?.

I met a flippant-tight-fisted guy a while ago and we got on OK. He purchased tickets for the best seats at the cirque du soleil to see Allegria on a spur of the moment. I was thrilled, while i was basking in the euphoric moment he said "I am not a guy who believes he should buy a woman a meal just to get into her knickers". I mean where did that come from? He offered to take me out. Anyway, that made me furious. I still agreed to our first date. After the show I took him to Maroush and forked out cash for our entire meal, at least he knows one of us wasn't a cheapskate. then i make the mistake of inviting him over to to another restaurant with my pals. Mr Voracious had 4 cocktails at £9.50 each and when the bill came i was saddled with a £40 portion of the bill when i only had a mediocre meal and 2 glasses of cheap rioja. Suffice to say, that was the conclusion of our ill-fated encounter.

Why on earth will you go out for a meal with a vegetarian and expect to go dutch, when your food costs more than theirs?

Recently, i met up with someone i dated briefly (now he doesn't deserve the title of an ex), we went to a cheap and cheerful Thai restaurant just before our movie. After the meal he said "should we go dutch?". The bill was frigging £30, what was there to split? I was puzzled, i looked around, In my lineage there are no dutchs. I thought it was a joke. I simply replied, well i got the movie tickets anyway so pay for the meal.

Eating out, or lunch/dinner dates needn't be orchestrated, if you have an understanding the bill gets settled. There is no need for any awkwardness or slow-reaching-for-the-wallet. Maybe my preconceived notions are getting the worse or best of me, but i don't believe in going dutch anyway. I dont mind paying for what i eat, especially when your date has got a voracious appetite and you settle for a starter, the git then wants you to split it half. Thats how most men earn a reputation for being tight-fisted.


Red Wine!

Red Wine ! The very fraudulent drink that i love so much. I owe a lot to red wine, if i remember played a part in my conception.

I have grown to love this drink and become so enthusiastic about it. Really!

I love to drink my red wine at room temperature (naturally!). To reach its full glory I tend to have my red wine with steak or cheese.

I have a passionate affair with this drink, even though i am not a wine expert (sometimes i tend to think of myself as a "wine aficionado") I get offended when its disrespected. I am principally opposed to disrespecting red wine. That includes, spitting it out, mixing it or refrigerating it.

When i drink red wine with friends or family here, its is brought out from the refrigerator, and poured into any glass (blunder 1) then they can argue that it cant be served at room temperature because of our country's blazing hot weather, then its mixed with red bull or another energy drink (blunder 2) and drunk hurriedly (blunder 3). I don't get it.I still don't get it. I will never get it people.

I believe if you cant get it right to the last detail (to the glass, temperature, atmosphere and taste), don't bother drinking it!!!


Tuesday, 15 April 2008

Just a kiss!

She sits in a corner musing about her misfortune.
Dejected, yet with a blank expression distorting
her once perfect smile. She has no reason to smile
now, well, not this very minute. She isnt cursed but
she feels like so. Why is love always far from her?
Whenever it get close, it slips through her fingers
like quick-sand. Her heart currently bleeds for
the one she cares so much about.
He is far away. Not within reach, he cant kiss away
that loneliness this very minute. She feels so afraid
now, but she felt so safe in his arms a few days ago.
He is strong and bright and treats her with care.
She knows it but doesnt care about that now.
She wants all her worries to go away, she wants
him near, to hold her, touch her, make her feel
like a woman again. If only she could get a kiss
in his warm embrace, everything will be alright.
A kiss, only a kiss will suffice.

Saturday, 12 April 2008

Darn the Queues!!!

The main cause of my terminal depression is waiting or queuing. It causes me grief. I am an impatient lass. At least, i am now. Ok, I have always being impatient. Whereever i make home, queuing is a part of life, my world. I had thought nothing of it. Now, i think something of it. Queuing for food, queuing for drinks, queuing at the bank, at the hair salon, queuing to buy petrol, queuing at the cinema. Nowadays i never go to the movies, I watch most videos at home or on the plane. If i go to the supermarket and there are more than 10 people to be served, i am likely to turn around and walk straight out and patronize a less heaving store or rather do without what i went there for.

I especially hate banks and airport immigration where i have to shuffle slowly in front of the line and when i get to the top of the queue i have to keep swiveling my head to see which counter is first to be free and more likely than not, when i do not spot it some clever prick nudges me from behind in the intestines and say "its your turn". I do most of my banking via phone in Nigeria or online in the UK. As for airport immigration, isnt it about time we checked ourselves through customs online? I try to restrain myself from screaming at immigration officers for their snail's pace. Ok, wouldn't dream of shouting at the immigration officer, but thats the way i feel. I am renowned for losing my cool when everyone else is keeping theirs.

What happened to queue management? Why is it acceptable to spend 2 hours to go through immigration at ATL airport (including a 30 minute detention for frowning at the immigration officer). I tried dropping a hint that i didn't intend to spend the night at the airport but it didnt quite catch on. I was detained, detained because I frowned. Frowned because he was wasting my friggin’ time.