Behind Chardonnay Tinted Glasses
I wrote this quite sometime ago and as much as I love slipping descriptions into my mind when I'm in public, it always seem to go better with food and drink.
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As one decided to stay in tonight after a silly day around and about Batam and Singapore, a trip down to the restaurant at the Fairmont
Her name was CHristine and she had an interesting manner of speaking, I can't tell where she's from and I loved her expression when she spoke.
All single diners always start with a glass of wine and as we look around the room, between our sips and through our yellow or red tinted glasses. Seemingly the presence of a book or a glass of wine would play facade to the fact we're accompanied by something less tangible that reality. As a distraction, or maybe just something to do, something to keep the hands busy as we sit in our silent corners with minds screaming out loud. Kings and Queens of our own distraction perhaps.
In the crowd tonight was a single son with his parents, girlfriends out for a meal, colleagues in a birthday party. Each fit and bend their stereotypes at the same time. As laughter drowns the piano muzak. One imagines the conversations that go on... "You look fabulous, how's the pregnancy coming?" , "Am I glad it's the weekend!"
*another sip as one slips back into a maddening shroud of imagination*
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As one decided to stay in tonight after a silly day around and about Batam and Singapore, a trip down to the restaurant at the Fairmont
Her name was CHristine and she had an interesting manner of speaking, I can't tell where she's from and I loved her expression when she spoke.
All single diners always start with a glass of wine and as we look around the room, between our sips and through our yellow or red tinted glasses. Seemingly the presence of a book or a glass of wine would play facade to the fact we're accompanied by something less tangible that reality. As a distraction, or maybe just something to do, something to keep the hands busy as we sit in our silent corners with minds screaming out loud. Kings and Queens of our own distraction perhaps.
In the crowd tonight was a single son with his parents, girlfriends out for a meal, colleagues in a birthday party. Each fit and bend their stereotypes at the same time. As laughter drowns the piano muzak. One imagines the conversations that go on... "You look fabulous, how's the pregnancy coming?" , "Am I glad it's the weekend!"
*another sip as one slips back into a maddening shroud of imagination*
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