When i get down to thinking about it, i realise that i share a lot of traits with the flightless bird of Thanksgiving. We're both:
- Short and stout.
- Restless.
- Blessed with a sixth sense that tells us when we're in danger.
- Beautiful looking. When compared to the Archaeopteryx at least.
- Fated to get stuffed with food, regardless of whether we will it for ourselves or not.
But we both definitely don't share a bald patch and the little appendage dangling under the chin. (Thank God for small mercies.)
To elaborate on the last common trait, Sister K and i took my cousins to a new eat-out in Indiranagar. As an aside, the speed at which places are coming up in that area, it'll soon replace the astonishing fact that six babies are born across the world every second. So, anyway, this place is called California Pizza Kitchen - CPK for short - but it looks more like Buckingham Palace's dining room in size. The food isn't bad but not as tastefully done as the decor of the place.
As is always the case with us, we over-ordered. And we struggled to finish it. And just BECAUSE i am BIG, i am always treated as the disposal bin into which all leftovers go. So i ended up eating quite a bit and then, because i'm a moron like that, we ordered dessert too. In all fairness to Sister K, she ate most of the dessert. I ate some and then felt bad for the table because it hadn't had any to eat, so left some for it too. My cousins ordered for the Ice Cream Sundae and almost gagged at the sight of a giant glass full of ice cream, cream, nuts and chocolate that arrived. Of course i bullied them into eating it all up, and of course i took generous bites of it too, thinking it would melt through and fill the little nooks and crannies of my stomach.
But, surprisingly, on the way to drop my cousins off at Grandma's, i realised that there have been worse stuffed turkey days in the past. On those previous occasions, i could feel the food pressing against my chest cavity and all the way up to the entrance of my food pipe (the light at the end of the tunnel?), but last night, i only felt it pressing down on a point just above my stomach. Tiny relief, but at that point, any would do. Just goes to show that the food really wasn't that great. On the other hand, the place was. Nice, i mean.
Maybe next time i'll choose a different location for my Stuffed Turkey act. Perhaps that other new place on 100 feet that'll make a bird like me feel right at home. Guess why?
Because it's called Peacock.
But we both definitely don't share a bald patch and the little appendage dangling under the chin. (Thank God for small mercies.)
To elaborate on the last common trait, Sister K and i took my cousins to a new eat-out in Indiranagar. As an aside, the speed at which places are coming up in that area, it'll soon replace the astonishing fact that six babies are born across the world every second. So, anyway, this place is called California Pizza Kitchen - CPK for short - but it looks more like Buckingham Palace's dining room in size. The food isn't bad but not as tastefully done as the decor of the place.
As is always the case with us, we over-ordered. And we struggled to finish it. And just BECAUSE i am BIG, i am always treated as the disposal bin into which all leftovers go. So i ended up eating quite a bit and then, because i'm a moron like that, we ordered dessert too. In all fairness to Sister K, she ate most of the dessert. I ate some and then felt bad for the table because it hadn't had any to eat, so left some for it too. My cousins ordered for the Ice Cream Sundae and almost gagged at the sight of a giant glass full of ice cream, cream, nuts and chocolate that arrived. Of course i bullied them into eating it all up, and of course i took generous bites of it too, thinking it would melt through and fill the little nooks and crannies of my stomach.
But, surprisingly, on the way to drop my cousins off at Grandma's, i realised that there have been worse stuffed turkey days in the past. On those previous occasions, i could feel the food pressing against my chest cavity and all the way up to the entrance of my food pipe (the light at the end of the tunnel?), but last night, i only felt it pressing down on a point just above my stomach. Tiny relief, but at that point, any would do. Just goes to show that the food really wasn't that great. On the other hand, the place was. Nice, i mean.
Maybe next time i'll choose a different location for my Stuffed Turkey act. Perhaps that other new place on 100 feet that'll make a bird like me feel right at home. Guess why?
Because it's called Peacock.
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