The DilemmaPosted: August 29, 2011
We’re all about tradition when we do go out – €5 cocktails in Capitol Bar, dancing and whiskey (for me) and vodka (for her) in The Oak and then chicken fried rice (for her) and chicken balls and curry sauce (for me) in Charlies.
I’ll be honest, I’m not a huge club person – I’m much happier at a house party or at a casual night out in a pub.
The only reason I do concede to dancing nights is that I get to go the Charlies for food afterwards.
I love Charlies.
It has a reputation for food poisoning and poor hygiene, but I’m willing to risk it for their chicken balls and curry sauce, which are quite possibly the best things I’ve ever eaten.
And so The Bessie and I ended up sitting in Charlies on Saturday night.
I ordered a portion of Chicken Balls, Rice and Curry Sauce.
Sure I was only hungry enough for the chicken balls, but I was planning on saving the rice and remaining curry for breakfast the next morning.
I should explain this….I don’t get hangovers in the traditional sense.
A ‘Me’ hangover consists of being able to get no more than four hours sleep, having to eat a dinner for breakfast, and a having a general lack of balance and intelligence the next day.
I polished off the chicken balls in record time and lovingly mixed the remaining sauce into the rice and closed up the box.
“I have to whizz,” I told The Bessie; “Can you watch my stuff?”
I left my bag and coat with her as she made a dent in her chicken fried rice and I skipped off to the toilets.
I came back a couple of minutes later and sat back in my seat.
I looked at the table in front of me.
I looked at The Bessie.
I looked back at the table.
“The Bessie, where’s my food?”
“Oh the girl took it.”
I looked at her.
“Yeah she was taking mine and I said she could take yours too.”
I blinked slowly.
I looked at her some more.
“You actually told her she could actually take my food?” I said in a deadpan voice.
It took me a minute to process the information.
And then it kicked in.
“GAH! WHAT???? YOU LET HER DO THAT!!?? BUT IT WAS MY FOOD!!!! MY FOOD!!!!” I was so high-pitched at this point, only dogs could register what I was saying.
“Oh,” said The Bessie, obviously not grasping the gravity of the situation. “I thought you were finished.”
“I wasn’t! They were leftovers! That was my breakfast!!!”
“Oh well,” said The Bessie. “Sorry!”
“Oh well”???….all our years of friendship and she allows someone to take my food….have we even MET!?
“I’m going to see if I can get it back,” I said walking up to the counter.
The Bessie looked amused.
“Excuse me,” I said to the girl. “You took my food and I wasn’t finished. Can I have it back?”
She looked at me. “Your friend said you were finished.”
“Oh but I wasn’t. There was lots of rice and sauce left. Can I have it back?” I said smiling matter-of-factly.
“It’s in the bin,” she told me.
I felt actual pain when I heard that.
I blinked at her.
Well, the container was sealed.
So if it was in the bin, the food wouldn’t have touched anything bad.
It would be fine.
The girl stared at me.
I started back.
“Uhm….can…” I started.
She continued to stare.
I walked away with tears in my eyes.
I wasn’t ready to hit that level of low.
Not just yet anyway….