LT's Birthday Dinner
We're packed in to an orange room on the first floor, shuffling chairs to preserve a path as more and more people arrive. On the wall it says "fishcakes" and there's a drawing of a fish in blue and green chalk. I can't remember how much they are.
We see Prue at the top of the stairs and in front of her is a waiter holding a male mannequin around the waist. The mannequin - let's call him Pierre - is perpetually sitting and the path doesn't stretch to that kind of access so they pass him over the dinner tables to LT and the Scottish friends called Graham near the window. I mistakenly think that it's a birthday gift and wonder where the hell they will put Pierre in their apartment. Turns out that he's hired so Prue can take a series of photographs. He's $40 a week but if anything happens to him he costs $800 to replace. Later in the evening Pierre's arm falls off as he's being passed back over tables. It lingers for a moment over the flaming main course and I wonder how much it is to replace just an arm. Soon it slides off the table taking with it a bottle of red wine and Prue is able to pick it up and reconnect it without too much trouble. After that Pierre sits alone at the spare table behind us. In his checked faux western shirt he looks like he's a local. He even has his own bottle of wine for a while, but then we need to drink it.
Prue says she's going to take Pierre to Armidale and put him on a horse to take some photos. I don't think the horse will like it, but I don't say anything.
The waiter shows us how to put the rice noodle rolls together, but once he's gone we all try to stuff too much in them and they don't work any more.
The cousin from Wellington via England tells me that somewhat disappointingly Wellington is not really very windy. In fact, the airport got closed five times last year because of fog. Later Lisa tells me that he hunts things, this cousin, and that her Inverness friends used to think him exotic, which worked a lot in his favour. Warwick says that the cousin told him he takes his lesbian colleague to strip joints to watch girl on girl action. I wonder if my investigative conversation skills are lacking.
When it's time to leave we take Pierre downstairs and sit him behind a pot plant while Prue goes to get her car. He doesn't fit in the front seat so she shoves him head first into the back, and then we all head off to Kuletos.
We see Prue at the top of the stairs and in front of her is a waiter holding a male mannequin around the waist. The mannequin - let's call him Pierre - is perpetually sitting and the path doesn't stretch to that kind of access so they pass him over the dinner tables to LT and the Scottish friends called Graham near the window. I mistakenly think that it's a birthday gift and wonder where the hell they will put Pierre in their apartment. Turns out that he's hired so Prue can take a series of photographs. He's $40 a week but if anything happens to him he costs $800 to replace. Later in the evening Pierre's arm falls off as he's being passed back over tables. It lingers for a moment over the flaming main course and I wonder how much it is to replace just an arm. Soon it slides off the table taking with it a bottle of red wine and Prue is able to pick it up and reconnect it without too much trouble. After that Pierre sits alone at the spare table behind us. In his checked faux western shirt he looks like he's a local. He even has his own bottle of wine for a while, but then we need to drink it.
Prue says she's going to take Pierre to Armidale and put him on a horse to take some photos. I don't think the horse will like it, but I don't say anything.
The waiter shows us how to put the rice noodle rolls together, but once he's gone we all try to stuff too much in them and they don't work any more.
The cousin from Wellington via England tells me that somewhat disappointingly Wellington is not really very windy. In fact, the airport got closed five times last year because of fog. Later Lisa tells me that he hunts things, this cousin, and that her Inverness friends used to think him exotic, which worked a lot in his favour. Warwick says that the cousin told him he takes his lesbian colleague to strip joints to watch girl on girl action. I wonder if my investigative conversation skills are lacking.
When it's time to leave we take Pierre downstairs and sit him behind a pot plant while Prue goes to get her car. He doesn't fit in the front seat so she shoves him head first into the back, and then we all head off to Kuletos.
posted by noonie at 2:00 PM
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