Rice Sticks Are Not Noodles
Lunch ... good. I stared at the lunch box, not quite sure I was up to lunch. For the last few days, the maid had produced fried noodles of some variant or other. Frankly, I was sick of fried noodles.
Listlessly, I stared at the lunch box. Gee, what a surprise ... fried noodles. I mock jokingly asked the maid if she had an obsession with fried noodles and received an indignant reply that it was not fried noodles. Looks brown, strand like and fried with a fried egg and some meat balls ... looks like fried noodles to me.
She declares vehemently that is is rice sticks and not noodles. Eh? Er ... rice stick = noodles, no? Apparently not! How could I have been so wrong for so long? I bugger off before I say another wrong word and she serves me fried cyanide for tomorrow's lunch.
I'm wondering if I should pretend to eat the noodles and then go to one of the cafes to get a sammich later. Hmmm ... actually, the nood ... I mean rice sticks taste rather good. Wow, the pork meatballs are phenomenal. Ya know, the maid makes amazing wantons and meatballs. I wonder if she'd balk if I requested for ravioli. Let's not push my luck.
I have to go off to Club St later to pick up a cheque. Perhaps I can pick up a Spizza Pizza. Oooohhh, I so miss a Spizza Pizza. I used to go there for dates until I realised that I'd been on 3 different lunch dates at the Spizza and the waiters had cottoned on and were giving me the nudge nudge, wink, wink, say no more, say no more treatment. Right, takeout at Spizza from now on.
Am so craving for a shisha but with my throat & nose still giving me problems, I would be wiser staying home to recuperate. Sigh. Anyway, I need to go grocery shopping today to replenish my bare pantry. Pantry, people, pantry! Not panty! Pervs.
Categories - Rambling Prose