So glad I didn’t drive last night ….

Yesterday was my gf’s birthday. I wanted to take her for a spa day in Shenzhen or to see Cirque du Soleil in Macau. But she didn’t like either of those ideas. She doesn’t think I should be spending money at the moment and just dug in her heels, insisting we do something in town.

She reminded me that a few months ago, I won a $500 voucher good for any of the restaurants at the Sheraton (except Morton’s). So the plan was to book dinner at the Oyster Bar. Except, Saturday morning, I couldn’t find the voucher. It’s probably on my desk at work.

Thinking fast, I knew she loved Uno Mas and was waiting to try that suckling pig dish I’d had last time and raved about to her. I called and they’d had a last minute cancellation for a balcony table and I thanked my lucky stars.

Now I know that there are some readers of this blog who don’t care for Uno Mas and that’s fine, but for me it’s been good every time I’ve been there and this was no exception. A bottle of Spanish red, the ham and cheese plate, some fried sausages, sauteed clams and then that amazing bit of pig.

The married couple at the next table were HK residents but originally from Gibraltar. The first Gibraltese? Gibraltarians? I’d ever met. And it was the day before that woman’s birthday, so they were out celebrating as well. They’re friends of the manager there and have been back often. As were the foursome at the next table over – they said they always travel to Barcelona and they’ve been back to this place 6 or 7 times since it opened and they love it.

More to the point, one of the guys at that table mentioned he’s just started a cupcake business in Hong Kong. “I am so there!” I told him how I’d read in too many blogs about gourmet cupcake shops in New York and was so glad someone was bringing that concept to HK. One branch in Causeway Bay, one in Ap Lei Chau, gonna check it out this week if I can.

(I mean, let’s face it, every last one of those major chain bakeries in Hong Kong suck ass. Why is it that Hong Kong is such an anomaly where western style bakeries are concerned? Getting decent bread and cake is easy in Tokyo, Taipei and Singapore but an uphill battle here. Thank Buddha I live in Sai Kung where we have Ali Oli and Mushroom.)

After finishing off the wine and relaxing out there for a bit, we ordered the churros and the manager treated us to a couple of glasses of some Spanish sherry which he described as “liquid gold.” Normally I don’t go for dessert wines – too many bad memories of Manischewitz at Passover, I suppose – but this was some serious wine and left me licking my lips. The name is a blur at this point – something Hidalgo?

(Aside – why is it that wine goes to my head so much quicker than whiskey? In the right mood, I can go all night on Johnnie Walker, but half a bottle of wine and I’m blotto!)

So, two hours later, somehow made it down the stairs to the street. But as we passed Doghouse, they knew it was my gf’s birthday, so they insisted on giving us shots of tequila.

Since I rarely drink any more, the wine and the sherry and the tequila had me pretty much raving and drooling at this point. But over to Amazonia, where more of her friends lay in wait. But I just dropped into one of those big chairs in the back with a bottle of water and chilled.

I asked Icebox to announce her birthday and I pulled her onto the dance floor just before that – I never dance, because I know what it looks like when other guys who can’t dance get up to dance, but I was toasted enough to not care.

The second band, Cactus, followed a bit of Led Zepp with a seriously wicked version of Santana’s “Soul Sacrifice” and came pretty close to tearing the roof off the joint, but stabbed themselves in the foot by following that with some Joan Jett. Ah well.

Eventually time to go home and pass out. Actually, by the time we left the bar, I was totally sober. But feeling very tired and between that and the rain, just as well I wasn’t driving. We get a Kowloon side taxi, I tell him Sai Kung, and off we go. Except the taxi driver doesn’t speak English and calls some friend of his, some woman, whom I’m supposed to tell where we’re going so she can tell him. Except she doesn’t speak English either!

I tell her the name of my village. (In Cantonese.) The name of the road. (In Cantonese.) The name of the road before the road. (In Cantonese.) Okay, I know my tones are off but drunk or not I know where I live. And this woman’s just not getting it. I think she’s deaf. “Chuk Yeung Doh!” I tell her. “Puk Fung Lo?” she answers. “Sai Kung Hotel?” she keeps asking me. I can show him how to go, I tell her. “Sow him?” “I can point where to go.” “Point?” I stopped myself from screaming curses into the phone – maybe I’m not that sober after all and I guess she was trying to help in her own special way.

Then after we get through the central tunnel, he wants to know if we should go by way of Tseung Kwan O. Why should I want to go 10 kilometers out of the way? Choi Hung, dude!

We get back home without further ado. I mean, I know how to say go straight, turn left, turn right. And I know how to point. As the taxi lets us off, the taxi driver says (in English) “Thank you sir. Thank you madam!” and then adds, “Good luck sir!”

Today is also the birthday of one of my gf’s friends. And so we’re having a combined birthday party at the house. Would be nice if it stopped raining so we could sit outside with a few bottles of wine. But doesn’t look like that will happen. Can still barbecue as long as the rain doesn’t get horizontal.