Monday, June 30, 2003
Service: * * *
Food: * * *
Ambience: * * 1/2
Babe Count: * * 1/2
The only reason there's a babe count at this place at all is cos I'm playing Renee, newly a mother for the third time, and she's pretty slinky. The waitresses are also gorgeous. But it seems as though Killarney on a Monday night has about as much voomah as a spent scud missile in a Palestinian second-hand shop.
But I'm not complaining. And that's cos I'm tasting victory. (Not to mention the solid, workmanlike flavour of the chicken schnitzel with cheese, no mushrooms.) Renee has just succumbed to the humiliation and despair of losing to me in backgammon, thereby securing me a place in the B-division of our backgammon club. Viva! Amandla! Power to the Blumenthal!!!
Yeah. That feels good.
"I'm going home now," she says. "I've been away from my baby too long."
She leaves.
I hand my score sheet to Matt. "Sheesh," I say, sheepishly. "I think I may have caused her lactose-generating hormones to dry out!"
"Beat her, did you?" says Matt. He's catching up nicely against Andreas.
"Yup," I say, and I can't keep the grin off my face. I just can't hide the fact that I love the pain and humiliation and suffering and despair I cause in others when I beat them. Naturally, I don't really enjoy being on the receiving end of that myself. But that hasn't happened in a while. I've had a very hot winning streak.
I send an sms to Jacqui, letting her know that her boyfriend is champion of the universe, sex-bomb with a set of dice, god of the white and red tiles. She is suitably impressed, and my groin vibrates madly when she smss me back to say how proud of me she is.
I so love being in love.
"Hey," says Matt. "Update your website, you hobgoblin! I want to know sordid details!"
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