Sunday should be a time for relaxation, a time to unwind with family and friends. put your feet up with a cup of tea and just chill out (all the while trying to forget you have work on Monday). Well this particular Sunday had all of these promising traits; I’d had a significant lie in, had a greasy brunch, chatted with family and piled enough carbohydrates in my body to run a marathon (naturally I didn’t do this, instead I took a nap even Snorlax would be proud of). Sounds perfect? Well it was. But what came after dinner shook my whole Sunday out of sync…
…as I fell out of my favourite Chinese restaurant clutching at my (now) spherical stomach, I saw three men sprinting at full speed towards me – one guy in a police/security/mall cop/traffic warden/YMCA outfit, another lazy Sunday clothes similar to what I was in…of course I just stood there like a rabbit in headlights – as usual you think about doing something, but the fear of tackling the wrong guy and then being labelled a massive dick by the local press freezes you to the spot. So yeah, I just stood there still clutching at my bump (but still thinking about dessert), as they advanced closer and closer. Perhaps this gross image freaked them out a little, as instead of running past me they darted into the Chinese restaurant instead! What came next was better than anything I’ve ever seen on Sunday afternoon telly…
As the three burst into the restaurant, it became immediately obvious which one was the antagonist between the three…it was the lanky, slightly more dishevelled one, who happened to have foam coming out of the sides of his mouth (no, this wasn’t obvious straight away! I was taught not to judge a book by it’s cover! Humph!) – anyway, so he started raving and screaming at the other two, as bewildered diners looked on or ignored him completely in favour of their noodles. It seemed he took exception to this; he demanded the stage, Godddamnit! So as the other two edged closer he grabbed a beer bottle from an unsuspecting pensioner’s table and smashed it to smithereens, leaving only a jagged shard in his hand as a make shift weapon – cue shrieks and wild “oh my GAAAAAD” hands from the entire population of the restaurant.
By the way, yes – I had a fantastic view from outside…and had decided on triple choc chip ice cream for dessert once the show was over.
Well anyway, as the crazed character (let’s call him Bobby) edged around the perimeter of the restaurant, he was met with more screams as he waved around the shard of glass defiantly in the air…I wasn’t sure what Bobby’s game plan was from here on in, but I was thrilled to be a spectator of this great escape…well, apparently his would-be captors weren’t quite as confident in Bobby’s abilities as I was, as they continued to advance on him…slowly but surely…
So, to increase the terror level to 11, Bobby decided to shift gears; try something different, it was do or die, fight or flight – it was a crazy plan, granted – but sometimes the crazy plans can provide new hope! (I’m not trying to relate this to Star Wars, this was of course nothing like Star Wars) As the cautious faux comforting arms got within reaching distance of Bobby, he grabbed for another larger bottle and smashed it again (cue more shrieks and hand waves of course), but this time placed the glass shard to his cheek, threatening to cut should anyone come any closer – I know, right? Bold strategy Bobby!
It was then that I wondered if I would get chocolate sauce on the triple choc ice cream, or was triple choc ice cream chocolatey enough without it?
This thought was interrupted when I saw Bobby, who was not getting the response he hoped for, held the glass a millimeter from his eye ball – this seemed to do the trick as people gave a resounding “whoa, whoa, whoaaa” as if Bobby was some kind of overzealous horse, it was this break that Bobby was looking for – so as soon as he spotted a gap he darted over tables and raced for the door. – only to be met with the heartbreak of some party pooper holding it closed from the outside (not me, obviously – I would never do that to Bobby), as he turned around in disappointment he held the glass to his cheek once more, but I could tell his heart wasn’t really in it this time, and he was subjected him to an involuntary five man game of pile on, until he dropped his make-shift weapon.
After seeing his defeat I continued my wander home. Later I was told it was pretty “normal” behaviour in Korea (using the term “normal” very loosely here of course), when a person has their backs well and truly up against the wall it is thought to be just mental enough to work…so much so that it is often parodied and satirized in Korean dramas!
Well that was my story from last Sunday…if you take anything away from this it should be this – there’s no such thing as too much chocolate, not on a Sunday anyway.
p.s. FREE BOBBY.
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