Elections

Listening to What To Do by Ok Go

I realised that the intro to 'You're The Reason I'm Leaving' by Franz Ferdinand sounds exactly like the intro to 'Do What You Want' by OkGo.

I am so observant.

Okay, I want to rant and rave. First of all, why the fuck is everyone talking about the bloody elections? We are fucking teenagers, in the throes of our last year of youth, and there we are, tired at 8pm, standing outside Ralph Lauren, so stoned that we started to salivate while one of our party talked for a full 5 minutes about politics (let me give u a hint, she has big tits). WHAT. THE. FUCK. Ok. Please, if you have some crap that you feel strongly about the PAP or whatnot, keep it to yourself. I still have 2 full years before I have the ability to vote, and for now, I would like to remain in blissful ignorance.

Now that that's out of the way, I shall rant about my second topic.

Fine Dining

See. I can not in all of my highly developed level of intelligence and my sharp intuitiveness, grasp why people would pay several hundreds of dollars on one meal. Let me first point out that with several hundred dollars, I can furnish my entire hockey gear set. Or, I could pre-order the latest Nike Bauer skates which weigh a freakish weight of 450 grams.

But yes, why the hell would anyone pay that much for ONE meal, I say. And THIS IS NO ORDINARY MEAL. You see, people make a reservation a month in advance, spend a lot of time 'dressing up' in what appears to be the most stiff and uncomfortable clothes in their wardrobes, put on 8 inches of make up and throw on they're most painful set of high heels that they can find, and go to a restaurant with an atmosphere to match their clothes. Basically, the whole place looks great, but it has got to be the most stressful and unomfortable environment ever.

You sit in a chair, keep your back straight, and try not to make any unnecessary sounds, otherwise the scary white man in the next table will glare at you. Next, u order a set meal, choose a 6 course, 8 course or 10 course, in which the prices doubles respectively. And then you wait, have some polite conversation, all the while keeping your voice down so that everyone in the restaurant is happy while everyone at your table is hunched over trying to hear you.

AND THEN, THE FOOD COMES.

My first thought was. What the fuck is that?

It comes on this huge-ass plate, with some great little sauce sprinkled tastefully around a piece of food that is not only unrecgonisable, but also barely visible. Why would anyone pay that much to have food that can be consumed in one bite? Why not get some mini oreos instead? And then you slowly progress through 6 courses of microscopic food while your entire attention is focused on not splattering any sauce on the table cloth which was probably bleached 7 times to make it so white that your eyes go out of focus when you stare at it.

And then the best part comes, you finish your meal, feeling slightly giddy from the immense stress and the amount of energy you put into picking up a tiny piece of food without making any noise, and the kind waiter sweeps over with your bill. And you pick it up and check the bottom line, and u realised that it's 3 digits, and if you doubled it, it would be 4 digits. You pay the waiter, tip him an amount that he doesn't deserve, and leave.

When you get to the carpark, you can breathe again. Why, I ask you, why, would anyone put themselves through that? I would much rather buy my hockey gear and spend the change on hawker food.