seekerofvisions
06-13-2006, 01:57 PM
Had a great evening last night which started out with the surprising of a friend on her birthday in an empty parking lot. :cool:
My friend, Lisa, had chosen a specific restaurant in the heart of los angeles which seemed ever so far whilst driving on the I-5, where it appeared as though every member of the human race was occupying every available space of the highway. I had made the mistake of opening up a discussion on philosophy and was greeted with the stern assesment of philosophy having no value on the human race as a whole, but instead that commerce was of importance due to its impact on society.:| Again, I say :| .
We finally made our way to Tantra in Los Angeles; a small Indian restaurant with a large statue of Ganesh, who sits in an alcove, his four arms going this way and that. The lighting was dim and intimate with large long lamps with red cloth covering them hanging over the tables in the middle of the room. We were seated in a booth in the corner of the room with two tea lights sitting on our tables. The five of us hunched forward to read the paper menus joking about the possibility of fire and then ordered alcoholic drinks each.
I ordered a Budweiser while my friends ordered Comfortably Numbs, which are termed so because of their Southern Comfort inclusion. We ordered naan and chutney. My friend who sat to my right reached for the naan, his hands shaky from the imbibition of his drink a half an hour earlier. As he wrestled with the naan the napkin which had accompanied said naan greeted the flame to its right and burst into beautiful hues of yellow and red with a touch of black plumes arising from the top of its flame. Oh it was a sight to see as my friends sat, wondering what to do. One nearly doused the flame with her Comfortably Numb until another reminded her of the flamability. Thank god for sobering revelations.
I think what disturbed me was the lack of surprise on the waiter's face as he approached us. He galantly handled the flaming basket which had been met with the napkin which was a aflame, deftly and without care for his care personal. I was both in awe and wonderment of him for the lack of care for his sleeve which sat not an inch from the flaming basket.
It wasnt too much longer after that that we made our way to a bar that sat on Hillhurst. Our bellies full of naan, chutney, curry and tikka masala we walked the block and a half and pulled open large wooden doors and our ears were greeted with the sound of the muppets singing some song or another, I dont remember. My birthday friend and the others ordered Roadkill to drink while I stuck to my apple martini and shot of tequila. Not much happened after this point, just some loud singing that no one, not even ourselves enjoyed and we made our way back to Lisa's SUV.
For some reason on the way back I believed myself to be a yoga superhero of some sort and decided that the best way to end the night was by attempting to fold myself into yoga postures for the amusement of others. This was met with looks of wonderment, disdain on one girl's part because my foot was near her head and bemusement on the other passenger's part. I was caught in a moment of surprise when I was unable to unfold myself properly without causing my foot to greet the head of friend who sat near window.
My friend, Lisa, had chosen a specific restaurant in the heart of los angeles which seemed ever so far whilst driving on the I-5, where it appeared as though every member of the human race was occupying every available space of the highway. I had made the mistake of opening up a discussion on philosophy and was greeted with the stern assesment of philosophy having no value on the human race as a whole, but instead that commerce was of importance due to its impact on society.:| Again, I say :| .
We finally made our way to Tantra in Los Angeles; a small Indian restaurant with a large statue of Ganesh, who sits in an alcove, his four arms going this way and that. The lighting was dim and intimate with large long lamps with red cloth covering them hanging over the tables in the middle of the room. We were seated in a booth in the corner of the room with two tea lights sitting on our tables. The five of us hunched forward to read the paper menus joking about the possibility of fire and then ordered alcoholic drinks each.
I ordered a Budweiser while my friends ordered Comfortably Numbs, which are termed so because of their Southern Comfort inclusion. We ordered naan and chutney. My friend who sat to my right reached for the naan, his hands shaky from the imbibition of his drink a half an hour earlier. As he wrestled with the naan the napkin which had accompanied said naan greeted the flame to its right and burst into beautiful hues of yellow and red with a touch of black plumes arising from the top of its flame. Oh it was a sight to see as my friends sat, wondering what to do. One nearly doused the flame with her Comfortably Numb until another reminded her of the flamability. Thank god for sobering revelations.
I think what disturbed me was the lack of surprise on the waiter's face as he approached us. He galantly handled the flaming basket which had been met with the napkin which was a aflame, deftly and without care for his care personal. I was both in awe and wonderment of him for the lack of care for his sleeve which sat not an inch from the flaming basket.
It wasnt too much longer after that that we made our way to a bar that sat on Hillhurst. Our bellies full of naan, chutney, curry and tikka masala we walked the block and a half and pulled open large wooden doors and our ears were greeted with the sound of the muppets singing some song or another, I dont remember. My birthday friend and the others ordered Roadkill to drink while I stuck to my apple martini and shot of tequila. Not much happened after this point, just some loud singing that no one, not even ourselves enjoyed and we made our way back to Lisa's SUV.
For some reason on the way back I believed myself to be a yoga superhero of some sort and decided that the best way to end the night was by attempting to fold myself into yoga postures for the amusement of others. This was met with looks of wonderment, disdain on one girl's part because my foot was near her head and bemusement on the other passenger's part. I was caught in a moment of surprise when I was unable to unfold myself properly without causing my foot to greet the head of friend who sat near window.