083: NYEs of the past

2011/2012

It was an evening spent in Bayswater. I joined in with his friends in playing Monopoly Cards with subsequent losses. I am competitive when it comes to games, let alone losing badly by men (ugh), so my ego was severely bruised. One of his friends was frantically getting ready for his first date with his long time crush. "We're going to try to see the fireworks," he says whilst rechecking his hair every minute or so in the mirror. Mind you, he was growing his hair out at this stage so his hair brushed his shoulders - a right bother to keep in place. All of us were silently laughing at how nervous he was. I don't know whether their love stood the test of time (ie whether they are still together now).

Him and I planned to go on a proper sit down dinner date that night. We picked a Malaysian restaurant which had good reviews located a mere 10-minute walk away. "Dress up," we said. So we left our friend's flat at 8.00pm, me in a pink flowy kaftan, him dressed in a black (borrowed) blazer and shiny black shoes. This is our version of dressing to the nines. Upon arrival to the restaurant, we ordered plates of yummy food. We enjoy eating, so we pretty much gobbled up a meal meant for four. When we were finished with our main course(s), we decided to order dessert. Then suddenly, the lights went out. Of all the days, NYE was the day there would be a cut to the restaurant's power supply. However, this didn't faze us - how many places could you dine in the dark at anyway? With the slight loss of visual input, my senses compensated, making the room a little bit more noisier.

The clanks of cutleries upon plates, the gasp of excitement upon gossip and the sighs of relief upon eating good food were more apparent. It was 20 minutes until the waitress told us that we would not be able to have dessert because the electrical cut affected the whole building, and that unfortunately included the kitchen. "Oh well, that's a bother," we discussed. "But at least we have eaten!" There were many more hungry customers patiently waiting for food who were also about to receive this disheartening news. I really didn't want to be that waitress right now.

He paid the bill before walking back to our friend's flat. As we were both students at the time, I knew that that dinner came with a heavy price tag - but he insisted on paying it all. I suggested a few days earlier that it would be fun to watch A Walk to Remember. I remember this film vaguely giving me the feels, and since he hasn't seen it I thought it would be a nice experience for the both of us. Somehow rather,  he succeeded in convincing one entire flat of 6 men to give up their television for 90 minutes to watch a soppy love story. Till this day I still admire his methods of persuasion on this account. The result was not the two of us, rather about 10 of us sitting in front of the television watching a film about the love story between a dying girl and a rebel boy. Watching it again with guys, I realised how ridiculous the script actually sounded on fresh, more matured, non-teenage ears. Critical remarks and banter were intermittently tossed by the guys at the television screen, ruining the movie altogether for me. Suddenly, each scene was more melodramatic and unrealistic than what I remembered.

It could be that it was just the fact that they are men, and they just don't get it. Or it could have been a lightbulb moment of realisation I needed to no longer be in denial of how soppy some romantic films are. The movie ended minutes shy of midnight. Then, the already noisy streets filled with cheers and the thunderclap of fireworks. We watched the coloured lights from the windows welcoming 2012.

An interesting end to an interesting night.