Waxy Lady
The group of us who drink together sometimes do other things, like go out for meals. There are quite a lot of us, so a booking for 20 at a local Thai was nothing unusual for us, and when we were told that there would be some 'entertainment' as it was a 'special day' we were all quite chuffed.

I can't really remember the food, but the wine was flowing, beers were being enthusiastically guzzled, and window seats allowed some of us much staring at the drunken people outside to provide hilarity. But there was more hilarity to come.

This restaurant is kind of long and thin (so girth not an issue) and there is just one row of tables down each wall (which on one side had been pushed together to accomodate us) with a little gets-full-very-fast space by the door.

A Lady came in, with a fancy headress on and a big overcoat. 'ooh', thought us, 'the Lady will dance while we eat our lovely food.'

And dance she did, shimmying up and down the space between the tables, coquettishly approaching the menfolk and retreating. But to make matters more interesting, as I guess the space was a little restrictive, she decided to accesorise.

With candles. Naked candles, if you will, not in holders or anything. Just candles. not eeny weeny birthday cake candles but the fat ones a bit like church candles. Now, you might think that a person who is standing up and dancing could only reasonably hold two candles, what with having only two hands. But no. As her undulations increased she tilted back her head and balanced a candle on. her. tongue. And yes, the candles were burning.

At this point, we weren't really paying attention to the food any more as we were all slack jawed and transfixed. But it got even more interesting. It's pretty hard to take a bite of your dinner when a scantily clad Lady is dribbling hot wax onto her arms, torso... and tongue...Her tongue!!! This was obviously the finale, and we all clapped like demented loons in a desperate attempt to make her go away and stop burning things.

In a funny way, the wierdest bit was seeing her leave - all glitzy headress, big overcoat - knowing what she'd been doing, and having seen the fixed smile and determined set of her jaw just minutes before. It still feels like some sort of surreal dream and knowing that 19 other people, at least, saw it doesn't make it better.

I can't remember if we had dessert. Or what I ate. I just remember those candles...
( ancrenne doesn't eat anything that can play video games, Fri 28 Apr 2006, 13:07, closed)