So, yesterday was our ‘parttorlogy’ day.
I had not been out of the apartment since we returned from our anniversary trip to Krabi/Phi Phi trip on 08 February – yeap, not even out to the common corridor. I am just.. homely.
If my hair wasn’t as disarray and out of shape; and if I hadn’t run out of disposable undies for the upcoming trip (just 3 days away!), I would probably prefer to stay home and work until the day to set off to the airport.
Oh well, just so you know, apparently, the messy mane is more important than a logically more crucial fix – chipped off filling from the molar tooth – as I decided that I needed to fix the hair more urgently than fixing that tooth. We didn’t have time to do everyone on the same day.
After the hair cut, we went to the supermarket at the basement to grab the necessities and non-necessities while the husband was too busy on the phone. When I finally caught hold of him and had him at the cashier while still super busy on the phone with his client – my bank card and credit card are with him since I needed him to help me post out orders at the post office and to buy stuffs while I continue to be the happy cave-woman – he took out the supermarket card and S$50.00. The basket of stuffs was nearly a hundred dollars. What can I tell you? I am every woman when it comes to buying anything and everything useful, or not.
In plan, we should proceed to officiate the ‘parttorlogy’ at my favorite restaurant – cedele at Great World City – which is also where ‘the tale of the pony and the meow’ begins.
This is when I begin to tell you the truth about how our story even begins, after the exaggerated story of ‘our story‘. He was – still is, but with more roles and duties now – my financial services consultant, and also the brother of a friend. He called to invite me to visit his sister at the hospital. While traveling there, I complained to him about a movie ‘war of worlds’ by Tom Cruise, which I wanted to catch with a friend who promised to watch with me, but went to watch without me! Mike said that we could go catch the movie after the visit if I wanted.
The bus-ride didn’t go so smoothly – or perhaps smooth for him – as he told me to get ready to alight, in the middle of some strange place near the port! We were on the wrong bus! Then, the stormy rain came – so dramatic eh! – and as if fishing out of his magic pocket, he flashed his very gentlemanly good gesture of shielding me from the rain.
(our love story begins at the bus-stop)
Now, the most unusual date was about to begin! After the visit at the hospital, we went to Great World City for the movie. While waiting for the show to start, we decided to have a coffee at the small cozy cafe near to the taxi stand – the then Cedele before the now expanded and renovated restaurant – and was given a complimentary carrot cake by the staff as Mike knew him (that is another part of the strangest things, we always meet his friends, not just within Singapore, but on the train in Bangkok, on the streets of Krabi, and somewhere else that I can’t remember now!). That was and still is the best carrot cake in town, ever!
That, is not the weirdest part. While sipping the coffee and waiting for time to pass, the boy decided it was a good time to sort out the rubbish in his wallet! (what was he thinking? Really? Showing all the mess in his disorganized wallet to the girl on the first date? Seriously!) Just so you know, since I have known his sister forever, nothing surprised me so much anymore.
Anyway, so it was time for the movie. We took the escalator. The night seemed to finally normalize. Suddenly, the boy panicked and asked if I had the movie tickets! In the next few seconds, like the lightning superhero – whom I can’t remember the name now – he asked that I stayed where I was, while he raced back to the cafe, and returned almost amazingly fast with two sad-looking crushed tickets. (yes, he had decided earlier that the ticket looked exactly like the stack of thrash he sorted out from the wallet)
After reading this story, you ought to be amazed that it is a miracle that he even got the girl – aka me! See, he didn’t even buy the movie tickets! He happened to have a small stack of movie tickets that he was given by his company for meeting certain target. Good thing I am really good with weird and drama ramas. No drama is almost no life for me, I attract dramas like metals to magnet.
Ok, so that was the long and strange love story that involved my favorite restaurant. Now, back to yesterday. We actually went back home – like our wedding day, the parttorlogy day was interrupted by work – as Mike had to work on an urgent proposal; while I was at home in time to receive my bulk supplies.
Finally, when the dust of work settled – or at least I thought so – the parttorlogy resumed. We headed straight to Cedele with two starving stomachs.
Mike ordered Rosemary Sea Salt Chicken and wild mushroom soup.
I had my favorite grilled chicken with walnut salad and a slice of real dark chocolate cake.
The rest of the shopping was done by me and a quarter of the husband. The other three-quarters of the husband belonged to the phone.
I would love to take photos with my shiny new toy of the supermarket, the sports store, and everywhere else that we went yesterday. Then again, I am a scaredy cat, I would prefer to have my bodyguard beside me when I take photos of the shop and merchandise.
The date was great though, spiced up with some dramas, but I wouldn’t trade for anything less. In a more positive light, considering that I am rarely out at all, wouldn’t it be unjustified if there isn’t any fresh drama to add to my day-out?
Now, at least I have another story to add to the already tall pile of stories of the pony and the meow.
Brief introduction on “Parttorlogy” – it is not a big word, and it probably doesn’t exists as a word until now, or rather until Singaporean.
‘Part-tor’ is a common phrase in our local dialect to describe ‘dating’ in the romantic context. The common usage would be ‘Go Part-tor arh?’ – it means ‘Out for a date?’. The somewhat improper phrasing in the sentence is the essence of the ‘Singlish’ that many of us are proud of; while some feel ashamed by the broken and ‘slang’ English.
