Another day, another dinner

With Debbie gone and the excitement at being out eating and drinking every night of the week fast becoming a thing of the past, the last thing that I wanted to do on Wednesday night was go out for dinner.

            I was dreaming of sofa time, of beans on toast, of tea and jammies, but what we had planned was a 7:30 reservation for 15 people at a really cool restaurant called Kilo down near the river.

            This Saturday is Liv’s birthday, and as she will be back in London for the big day (and the two weeks that follow it) the midweek supper was deemed necessary. Lacking in enthusiasm and desperate for sleep, I dragged myself over to the MRT and made my way to dinner.

            It turned out to be a great night, with all the guys on cracking form, and Liv maintaining her reputation for not really being a girls girl with just two female friends to balance out the rest of the male-heavy table.

            Dinner was delicious but entirely unnecessary, with duck, ceviche, two puddings – it was all very nice, but my poor stomach was desperate for less rich and heavy food.

            Once the dinner was finished and the hard-core drinking started ramping up Nick and I made a not very subtle bolt for the door and were highly grateful to be in bed by 11:30. Judging by Liv’s message the next day, and the news that they ended up in a karaoke bar, I think we left just in the nick of time.