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 | Blogs > Whatsherface > WhatsTheBeef? > Gawd-awful and Gobsmacked |
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Whatsherface
5/14/2008 3:23 pm |
I'm not sure if it is the place or just a culmination of an extremely hectic few months but I am getting headaches more often than before. Here I am sitting on me bed with my 'puter, waiting for my hair to dry after yet another migraine-easing hair wash and I realised it is the third time in two weeks I have had to do this. It can mean one of two things. One, I need to get out of here. And I have only been here for about 3 days. Which tells you a lot about how much I dislike this place. Two, I need to ease up on my schedule. Unfortunately, that cannot happen for another few months till September when I can foreseeably head for the light at the end of the tunnel. So that means I need to book a flight out of here by this weekend. I can surmise how tonight's headache came about. Women. They give me a headache. I had decided to give myself a break after my last class which ended earlier than normal so off I hied to my favourite oyster omelette stall. The man was not there. Patiently, I sat in a nearby coffee shop to wait. He did not show up. I walked up and down the pavement, staring mournfully at where he would normally station his make-shift cooking site. Someone finally took pity on me and told me he was not showing up today. Yes, my silent scream of misery reverberated throughout the cosmos. Did you not hear it? Deeply shattered, I decided to visit a friend's cafe/bar which is my favourite place to people-watch. It is in a busy strip of bars and eateries, situated right on the turn-in and wonderfully airy and relaxed. Best of all, I have always felt that it is my little oasis from everything where no one would notice me and I can notice everyone. So I perched myself on one of the bar stools, ordered my favourite margarita and some burgers (yes, burgers ... they are mini-burgers, alright? Roast beef, chicken teriyaki and gravlax) and plugged in my iPod to commence my early evening of Waldorf and Staedtlering. First up were some young boys who sat next to me. One of them wore a brilliant T. It had iPoop on the front with the silhouette of a bloke sitting on the bog. Fab. I asked him where he bought it and we got into a conversation about iPods and Ts. They left and I was still happily chomping on my burgers and wondering what else I could eat when I spotted a familiar face. Bloke was in a white T and shorts with a sports cap pulled low over his forehead. We looked at each other and exchanged short nods of acknowledgment before looking away in determined discretion. It was one of the kungfu stars and he positioned himself in an even more inconspicuous niche than I. Bugger, I thought. If they start coming here, I will have to find another sanctuary. Just then I spotted my friend, who happens to be the owner of the place. He came over and we exchanged greetings and kisses. "Oy, when the hell did the starlets start coming here? I like it here! I don't want them coming here and bringing notice and the such with them!" He chided me, "Hey, even they need a place to be themselves and to hide away." "I know! I know but I come here for the same reason. And if they keep coming, the rest of the madding crowd will invade too!" "Honey, have you not noticed that there are quite a lot of you who come here? All you guys come here to hide out, pretending that you do not know each other. Married stars with their flavour of the month, secretly dating celebrities afraid of being outed ... paranoid dancers who come to escape ..." At his meaningful glance, I gave him the finger. I looked around. There was only the kungfu star and no one else I recognised. But then again, I do not really keep track of who's in and who's wannabe. I decided my friend was indulging in a bit of delusions of grandeur and we chatted a bit before he had to return to work. I sat for a while and suddenly I heard a piercing screech. "WHF!!!! You're back in town!!!" Everyone turned to look. I wanted to sink into my chair and wished a hole would open up in the ground and swallow the strident cow up. It was an acquaintance I met some time ago at one of those fashion shows. I remember I thought her rather pleasant but terribly vacant. She invaded my private space with her other three girlfriends. All of whom possessed the same high-octave voices that could wake up the dead. I felt a headache coming on. My uninvited tablemates then started on about their shopping trip to Japan just last week, simpering over their sexual conquests and fantasies and the latest gossip in Hong Kong. I was ready to expire from boredom when one of them gasped breathily, "Waaaahh, look, look! It's Kungfu Star over there! It's him, I tell you! It's him!" She pointed and shrieked and drew the attention of everyone around us. Poor bloke was sitting quietly in the corner with his chickie and looked like I did a few moments ago. Like he wanted to disappear into his chair. I whacked her arm down and made violent shhh-ing noises. "Keep it down! The man is obviously trying to have some privacy. Give him a break!" The 4 women started babbling whether it was him, discussing his latest gossip and then debated on whether to go up to have a chat with him. By now, I was really wishing I was anywhere but there. If I could blush, I would have been beet-red in embarrassment and indignation. I was loathed to even look in poor Kungfu Star's direction. When I did, he had a resigned and pissed-off look on his face. I gave him an apologetic look and hoped he did not think I was part of the she-devils' group. He gave me a look of deep sympathy. And left within 10 minutes before they decided to harangue him. My headache had burgeoned into full glower. I packed up my things, made my hasty excuses and tried not to sprint away from the uncouth groupies. Have I gotten unused to the behaviour and conversation of "normal" women? Am I so insulated in my own world of dancers, musicians, entertainers that I cannot comprehend or condone the follies of women outside of that realm? Just recalling their shrill and vulgar behaviour is bringing back my headache. Right, change of topic. I shall recount a funny incident just before I left Singers. One of my uncles was driving me back in the wee hours of the morning and we were stalled by a road block. I commented that I had noticed an increased police presence in the city in the few days I was there and questioned him about it. He was as clueless as I. The police motioned us to stop and we did, noticing that there was a carload of young people pulled over to the side and being questioned. The policeman took a look inside the car, saw the two of us and waved us past. I turned to my 50-something uncle and asked, "Hey, should we be offended? They are obviously pulling over all the young people. We did not fulfill their age requirement! We're too old! Bugger! How rude!" We giggled and then my uncle said, "Maybe we should circle back so they can stop us this time." "Yeah, and demand that they pull us over since we are not THAT old!" By now we were in hysterics and continued our inane repartee all the way back to my hotel. Right, my headache is gone now. Success. In the immortal words from 6th Sense ... I see stupid people. |
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 5/14/2008 5:09 pm |
Silly twits, glad your headache is gone
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5/14/2008 7:43 pm |
I do so enjoy your accounts 
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5/14/2008 10:04 pm |
Ta, ladies. To be honest, I did have to take a Tylenol before sleeping in order to get rid of it. Glad you enjoyed the unfortunate circumstances of WHF ... In the immortal words from 6th Sense ... I see stupid people.
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5/14/2008 10:26 pm |
always a pleasure to read WHF's blogs Growing old is inevitable. Growing up is optional
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 5/15/2008 6:00 am |
life is interesting ... you were upset with the kungfu star and in the end you were exchanging looks of sympathy. I'm here wondering about the oyster omelette  never tried that. Hungry here 
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5/15/2008 6:14 am |
Aw, bless ... ta RoyalP! In the immortal words from 6th Sense ... I see stupid people.
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