Da weekend past

On Saturday, Ilajna, Paulus Maximus and I had an "End of Summer/Start of New Jobs" party. Bit of a dubious reason as evidenced by the fact that we had to clump together two half-excuses for the soiree. But then, who needs an excuse to pahty anyway eh.

The bar Paulus had chosen, the Good World, was in deepest, darkest Chinatown. Just when I thought the cabbie must surely have taken a wrong turn and I was about to get kidnapped, mugged and plundered, we arrived at the foot of this little oasis in what is otherwise a jostletown-by-day-but-desert-by-night scene. The bar may not have been much to look at (there's a reason why the picture on its website is blurry), but it filled all the requisites of being affordable, young, trendy and (most importantly) fun! The management threw in an extra freebie by allowing Paulus to DJ for an hour and a half (and thereby allowing me to brag to any willing listener that I knew the DJ). So we got to listen to some happy tunes that hit a striking chord ("Do you think they're liking it??!" Paulus kept asking nervously, although the crowd was all-beams).

The next morning, I woke up to an absolutely beautiful, golden Sunday. Fretting that it might be the last fairweather weekend before Winter launched herself in full fury, I decided to spend the afternoon reading leisurely in the park. So I ambled down there book in hand, sprawled onto my belly on the grass, and immersed myself in my book. Predictably, I hadn't been reading more than a few minutes when I started to feel myself get drowsy. The gentle breeze, warm sunshine and sweet smell of grass just has that soporific effect on me, and soon I was lulled into the deepest sleep I've had in ages. (Dear Gawd please tell me I wasn't snoring.)

When I woke up, some youths were throwing a football (the American pointy type) around nearby. I eyed the almond-shaped thing suspiciously, thinking how easily it could go off track and bop me one on the head. I had barely finished registering the thought myself when the ball came flying towards me, hurtling through the sky with lightning efficiency like a skull-cracking missile. Without time to get up, I reflexively curled up into a little ball, arms flung over my head in a protective gesture. I might even have had my posterior sticking out in the air in an undignified position. But still I was pretty chuffed with my reflexes. I stayed waiting like that a few seconds, heart in my mouth, fully expecting the ball to pound into me at any moment.

Nothing happened.

Few more seconds of nothingness, and then I hazarded a tentative peek out from between my elbows. No ball hit me on the head. Instead, one of the guys was standing over me trying (in vain) to control his laughter. "The ball fell over there," he explained, pointing to a spot a good twenty feet away. "You were totally fine."

I sat up straight, dusting the grass off my top. Gave him a nonchalant smile as though I'd known that all along. Got up with a deliberate slowness, proffered a smile and a wave, and affected as casual a stroll as possible out of the park.

What's a girl to do in such a situation, eh.