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#09

Monday, March 21, 2005

Class outing at Bugis

So I've just had my second can of coffee for the day. It's past midnight and I'm not feeling sleepy. I suppose I've accomplished my totally pointless aim of throwing my sleep-cycles out of whack for the holidays. Last night's small class outing helped, with me sadly heading home earlier (before midnight) so as to catch the not-so-last bus and negate my fears of getting stranded.

It was quite a subdued quiet affair, since only about ten classmates showed up. The western-country style restaurant at Bugis Junction that we went to had unimpressive food and rather bad service. Their supposed 'apple strudle' took the form of a sad apple pie-ish damp pastry, cold for the most part and looking as if it had been whalloped by an embarrassed scoop of vanilla ice-cream.

In the proud tradition that is 03A53 (although grossly under-represented as we were then, in numbers), we schemed to flee the establishment. We didn't do so in the end, of course, but given their at-best-average food and understaffed service, it was awfully tempting. With bad seats and lousy ambience put-together, it was a wonder that place survives. Restaurant bashing aside (and I'm usually not a terrifically picky eater), what was left of the diminishing class group later headed to CHIJMES (yes, I note the capitals).

I've only been to chijmes about say, twice or three times. The only thing to conclude is that, especially for girls (and guys) not interested in football matches projected on large screens, there is nothing remarkable about chijmes (isn't this developing into a running theme for the night: un-remarkable-ness). Although cute, there was nothing remarkable about the strawberry magaritas. There was definately nothing remarkable about the waitress who served us at the Mexican-ish place with the red-cloth-wrapped seats that got rather hot after lounging in them in a humid evening. I would venture to shove her beyond un-remarkablity into plain bad-ness, since she asked us (rather curtly) to remove our terribly offensive waterbottle from the table. A waterbottle! Good grief. And she does not know how to proportionate six glasses of magaritas from our one ordered jug.

This is turning into one peevish, un-remarkable night that I am describing. Funny how things get narrated in retrospect. Good points? Gee well, Daniel was properly clothed in something with a collar and sleeves. And proudly displaying his iPOD shuffle (a stupid device that heralds the triumph of great marketing and cool Apple branding over pure, simple sense - what's so great about randomness anyway! I want to know what song I'm going to hear! What is the big breakthrough?!). Granted, it was still an ugly polo-tee (I think most polo t-shirts are ugly, anyway). But it's quite a feat to overthrow the nortorious Grey Singlet. And the aforementioned vanilla ice-cream was decent.

And, naturally, it's always a good thing to meet up with the folks who had the misfortunate of crossing paths with yours truly for the past two years, if only to remind them that I'm as weird as ever.

en at 12:32 am

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