Posted by: Sam Olsen | October 2, 2011

Locked out

We had dinner at a fabulous French restaurant last night, enhanced by the fact that it was run by Chinese and not French people. It’s on the 12th floor of a non-descript office block in downtown Causeway bay, and when you hear it is bring your own you do slightly sigh.

But then you go into what can only be described as ‘opium-den chic’, with each table separated by silk drapes and lighting that puts you back into 1850. The food is classic French in inspiration but full of Hong Kong twists, like lamb wellington and mercury lobster bisque (not necesarily advertised as such).

Our hosts, “Bill and Rachel”, are a lovely couple that I was at college with, and great fun they are too. They told us a story last night that can only be descrbed as belongng to a Clouseau film.

So Bill had had a hard week, “a bloody hard week. And that day was the worst of the lot – I nearly threw my boss out of the window. All I wanted to do was come home, put on my pyjamas and get in front of the TV with a large glass of wine.” But Rachel is pregnant, and as such wasn’t able to pick up the heavy plant pot on their roof terrace that had been blown over in the typhoon that day. Bill, ever the gentleman, agreed to pop up to the roof, having changed into his PJs but before the luxury of the wine and trash TV.

“I was just picking up the pot when I heard the door to the roof terrace slam shut behind me. And the thing is, the lock is rusted so no matter how hard I tried I just couldn’t open it.” Rachel was meanwhile preparing supper downstairs, and wondered what all the banging from the roof was. “Wow, there must be a lot more storm damage than I thought. But I wish he’d be a bit quieter doing it”.

Rather unfortunately it then began to rain. At least Bill had his PJs on and was banging so hard to attract attention that he kept warm. Rachel was then surprised to see a hose dangling outside the kitchen window, which then started vigorously shaking. “That’s strange” she thought. Not as strange though as when it followed her into the sitting room, and danced merrily outside that window too. But as she was hungry she managed to dismiss the thought from her mind.

An hour later, and Bill still hadn’t appeared. “What can he be doing? Dinner’s been ready for 45 minutes now. And what’s with all that banging?” Eventually Rachel went to have a look and found him up there, looking rather bedraggled by all accounts. At least the rain hadn’t been too heavy… 

 

 

 

 

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