It was pretty romantic,
the idea of an animal kingdom amidst the cosmopolitan city,
beneath a tequila sunrise....
with a not-so-great sex on the beach...

Lured by the beautiful paradox,
the six unsuspecting females strolled into the restaurant.

Since September,
it has become a monthly affair for the 6 girls to handpick a date to gorge themselves silly on the finer food in life.

So this month,
we decided to spend our hard-earned money in this restaurant, Giraffe.

Everything was fine and dandy,
our appearances were not puke-inducing,
our behaviours were relatively more refined than usual,
our stomachs were grumbling like the most frustrated thunder
and some of us were oozing vinegar-jealousy over the make-over of a certain petite lady.

However, being superficial singaporeans,
we were pretty satisfied when we were ushered into the restaurant.

I have to say I was rather pleased with the service quality of the waitresses.
They were friendly,
smiling pple,
who accomodated us even when we requested for a change of seats from the classy interior to the alfresco area.

The food was a not-bad-imitation of fine dining stuff,
utensils and table arrangements were great.

In fact,
the atmosphere was so real,
complete with a selection of wine and cocktails somemore,
that I was almost lulled into believing that fine dining cld be available,
without blowing a hole in my pocket.

Until reality reared its nasty head.

We were so engrossed in our jealous appraisal of a certain petite lady
who suddenly underwent a 360 degree tranformation
from a housewifey-mother-of-four look
to a vibrant, innocent, come-and-try-to- taint-me challenge.

So out of the most malicious jealousy,
we decided to engage in the game of concentration.

Because the loser will have to drink,
and she sucks at that
and we were hoping against hope tt if she got drunk enough,
she wld tarnish her own reputation!!!

HAHAHAHA

Ok,
I was kidding about tt part.

She knows how much all of us loves her.
And she knows how eager all of us are to get her off the market
so tt her special someone cld take over the very tedious task of planning her 21st,
and we cld just sit back,
relax,
shed a few daintytears at her birthday
and sweet-talk her into believing tt her bf is the best gift we cld ever give her,
save ourselves a bomb for her birthday gift,
so we cld buy ourselves MORE nice,
red stuff from evil fashion stores.

HAHAHAHAHA

* sorry to digress.
Blogowner is too happy to get her internet connection back
courtesy of zee's filled-with-love-stingray-modem *

So we were happily fulfilling our own private fantasies when this
I-believe-she-is-constantly-dunned-girl-manager strode up to our table,
with this very ugly
I-think-I-am-the-most-drop-dead-gorgeous-woman-on-earth,
painted face,
disillusioned herself into thinkin that she was the most highly educated,
highly paid professor

"Can u all lower down ur volume, I can hear u all the way from the bar downstairs"

I do not remember that being phrased as a polite request
I do not remember the word, "please" in her demand
and I do not believe I have amnesia.

Granted,
we are not the kind of girls who stare into each others' eyes,
as we demurely slice our food and fork it daintily into our mouths.

All the more we aren't the type to hide girlish giggles
and coy smiles behind perfectly manicured fingers.

And we are definitely not undereducated,
act-classy,
ill-mannered,
low-intelligent restaurant managers
wearing cheap-allergy-inducing-4-inch-thick-cakey-expired-foundation
strutting around with her head held so high,
I was worried she might gag due to a lack of oxygen.

Sometimes we let out genuine,
hearty, laughters which are not the least bit lady-like.

I'm sorry if we do not fit into the common behaviours of imitators who frequent the place,
but then again,

I'd rather be an original Giordano white tee
than a pirated ralph polo.

I'm certain she would be disgusted with my view.

But then again,
I'm sure the feeling is mutual.