Technically, the first dinner wasn't really a Christmas dinner, but I won a present so it counts as festive.
Last night our rugby committee had dinner together at Carnegie's. Carnage is our team's oldest running sponsor and we have spent many a Saturday evening toasting successes and trying to forget failures at the bar. This was the second time that I have joined the committee for dinner. Last year we did not dine on a Friday night and sat in the corner tables but this time it was madness. We had a table for the ten of us right in the middle of the upper area of the venue. It was beautifully set with a fabric tablecloth, tinsel decorations and candles. Half of the table was occupied by our chairman's employees because they had finished their holiday luncheon nearby and had walked him, in his aviator costume, down to Carnegie's. Where they decided to stay for a few more. And then a few more after that.
We sat down to eat an hour later than planned, to a full British style meal of delicious tomato cream soup, turkey, roasted parsnips and carrots, potatoes, brussel sprouts, cranberry sauce, and some sausage and stuffing tidbits. All around us, patrons were dancing and merry making..and someone reached over and stole my bacon wrapped sausage. Well, what did I expect, waving bacon in front of a bar full of happy hour celebrants?
All of the food was demolished, with the exception of the brussel sprouts. They were undercooked and hard to chew. SB placed one into his mouth and I saw him out of the corner of my eye as he gagged. We had a few tense seconds as I desperately passed him a tissue out of my bag and then he hurked out the offending sprout. I don't think that hurk is a word but it perfectly describes the sound and action that he made as he cleared out the bitter and crunchy vegetable. I knew that it was too much to ask that we could enjoy a few meals without him heaving up his vegetables.
By the end of the meal several of the club's players had found us and they helped us to eat our pudding and custard, and then empty the wine. Then it was on to the dance floor. I love Christmas in Hong Kong.
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