Tribes in the City

There are better ways to spend a Sunday afternoon than to drag my hangover-ed self out of bed and to another party. But that's the way life goes. Invitations, I figured, are like taxis. Sometimes they never come. But when they come, they all do.

The two dos cannot be more different. The first one was a stylish industry dinner on a breezy rooftop terrace by the sea, the crowd was colourful and sophisticated - the kind that know their chardonnay from their chablis. Conversation was of the quote-a-minute variety, flowing like the wine. And after too much of grog, it didn't matter who said what anymore.

Sunday's gathering was held at dear old FJ's apartment, and in many ways, at the other end of the spectrum. The food was buffet-on-burners. There are people I have seen from 15 years ago, looking like your average accountant/engineer/math teacher. And just like 15 years in school before, they were painfully shy and conforming, just armed with PhDs now.

Even Boy remarked on how opposite the two crowds are. I wonder what will happen if you put the sparkly crowd together with the conformists.

In this urban mass, we all have our tribes. People gravitate towards those with the same vibe, dreams and dress sense (or lack of). You don't need the same provenance or jobs, but you need to click. I'm glad I found my tribe. They are somewhere in the middle of the spectrum. They are folks who have drive, but don't take themselves too seriously. Who would devour Fukuyama but adore Furla bags. Who would down 10 shots one night and then sweat it off the next day, only to reward oneself with a huge juicy burger.

Speaking of food, we're heading off to Sydney and a Tetsuya dinner (ok, de-gus-ta-tion) in a month. Joy! It's like the best birthday present I could ever dream of. As they say, half the bliss of a trip is in the anticipation. So it's another month of planning and waiting.

Goodbye. No, Really.

In the past, you had an account with your bank. These days, you have a relationship, though the service they provide is more or less the same. Now that's what I call progress. The only trouble is, as with every relationship, saying goodbye is hard to do.

I called a bank to cancel a credit card which I've never used. Sure, said the friendly lady on the other end, I will hand you over to someone else.

Now, I don't know what the job title of this someone else is, but I suggest "Clinger" would be appropriate. It soon became clear that the new lady on the line was there not to help me cancel my card, but to persuade me to keep it, as if her life depended on it. Ma'am, the card will give you loads of rewards... privileges.... discounts... blah blah blah....

Perhaps one of the prerequisites of the job is: must not take no for an answer.

Ahem, I didn't spend time rummaging for my phone PIN, navigating through a labyrinth of pre-recorded phone-banking "steps", waiting an eternity to speak to a human being, only to give up so easily. No, sweetie, it's not you, it's me. I still want to cancel my card!

Sheesh. I wonder what it's like to have such a job. Do they have professional relationship-preservation training, these clingers? Do they move from place to place? Are they judged on the number of "break-ups" they have stopped dead in the tracks?

There are clingers at phone companies too. I've been subjected to a particularly clingy one when I tried to cancel my mobile account a few years back.

"I'm leaving the country, I won't need the phone anymore."

"But ma'am, would you like to continue with us when you return?"

Sigh. Maybe the only way to make them go away is say: Listen, I don't want to scare you but I'm driving 150km an hour, I'm sick and tired of living and unless you have a branch where I'm heading, let's just call it quits.

"....."

Why I'm Getting Fat - Mystery Solved

"I asked an economist for her phone number... and she gave me an estimate.'' -Anonymous

Since we're in the mood for making lists, here's one on my favourite subject.

Last 5 great places I've eaten at:

1. Wahiro, at Katong Mall

There is culinary magic happening in this tiny wedge of a restaurant in an obscure location. An authentic izakaya (tavern), Wahiro feeds orgasmic gems like foie gras sushi and perfectly executed miso cod to a very lucky few - it has four tiny tables and a few counter seats. At 10pm, it is packed to the gills with Japanese expats, which says it all for me. It also has all sorts of sashimi such as flounder and mackerel.

2. The Line, at Shangri-la Hotel

With its groovy 70s decor and mind-boggling array of buffet dishes from different cuisines, this has become the latest see-and-be-seen eatery in town. But I only have eyes for the fresh oysters, sashimi and chocolate fountain.

3. Seafood Paradise, somewhere in Ubi

Judy took us to her boyfriend's restaurant a week before the newspaper review of it hit town. And thank goodness. For a restaurant that is tucked among machinery workshops, I hear foodie crowds have been descending in droves to taste Eldwin's pepper butter crabs and soupy crabs.

I can still remember the unique taste of sweet creamy butter sauce laced with white pepper...

4. Marine Parade char kuay teow

Forget ambience. Forget service. The plate of gooey garlicky rice noodles is this good, Boy happily queues half an hour for it.

5.Jalan Sultan prawn noodles, Jalan Ayer

This is the, um, Rollers of prawn noodles. In fact, on any given day, you can probably spot a couple of gleaming Rollers parked outside, their owners joining the plebs for the $10 noodles with humungous prawns in yummy broth.