Tuesday, December 05, 2006
Feeling better at Swatow
The night was spent at Andrew's party, at least for the most part. The girl and I had popped in to say hello, see my photos on display, talk to people we knew, then we went off down the street to grab some jerk chicken at Albert's. We were both famished.
The owner, or maybe cook... we'll just refer to him as the operator on duty that night, gushed as the girl praised the jerk chicken. She told the operator that she had dragged me there and that it was the second night this week that she had gone to Albert's to order it. Perhaps it was the nice comments made or maybe because she seemed to be glowing, the cook commented on her radiance that made her blush a bit, whatever it was it was some of the best food I've ever eaten at Albert's.
It would be an easy thing to say that it was the company of this girl. This goes with my theory of going to Paris, France. It's known for romantic get aways, being with a lover, seeing the Eiffel Tower, and all the other great images from that city. The only thing is when you go to Paris it really stinks, I mean it smells like garbage. That said, if you're with someone that means that much to you I suppose the memories of the stench just goes away and is replaced by just being with that person. Paris becomes that place for happy romantic thoughts again.
That said the girl being around had nothing to do with the food tasting great. As far as the food goes it was tastier than I remembered during previous visits. It could have been that I was just hungry. I'm pretty sure it was the food though. As for the girl, I felt pretty fortunate to have her as company. It's possible that she might have influenced the cook with her positive comments. He may have taken extra special care and attention when preparing the food and serving us.
Morale: Good comments equals good food, good service. Bad comments equals pee in your drink.
The only place to sit was at a counter in front of the main window looking outside but I guess because it was late there weren't that many customers around. For all I knew it seemed like we were the only two there. It was nice.
After inhaling the food the girl was tired and decided it was time to go home. I walked her to the subway with the intention of going home as well. It wasn't until I got off the train that I realized I had promised I'd help clean up. I doubled back to the Habitat Lounge.
By the time I arrived people were leaving in droves. It was about 11pm and since it was a school night I guess the exodus was understandable. Darryl had found that his bicycle was stolen. He had parked it across the street from the restaurant.
Andrew and Josie invited us to go to Swatow for some soup, to eat, and to cheer Darryl up. I felt pretty full from eating at Albert's but decided to tag along for the company.