wednesday

I have been too good lately maybe. (How can I help that?)

Went to work per usual. More writing. I decided to take a stroll down to Konark, a new vegetarian restaurant up the road. It was very nice and contemporary inside, and the menu was extensive, featuring just about every vegetable themed Indian dish known to man (And a few Chinese and Western ones to really round things out.) The place was full of business men chatting over lunch, tucking into epic portions of naan and spicy curries, gesturing at each other over glasses of tea.

I went with a tasty dish of palak mutter (spinach with peas) and a green salad. The waiter was absolutely aghast when I ordered no naan or roti - I am beginning to believe Indian waiters receive some sort of naan commission. Either that or Indians simply have a deep emotional need to get people to eat their complex carbohydrates.

I headed back around four, but the rain began coming down again, ruining my brilliant plan to go for a nice invigorating walk around the block. I sat around and was pissed off at the universe in general in protest. Food was concerning Indian-Chinese food. Indians and Americans are really quite equally good at messing up Chinese food.


I wanted to GO OUT DAMMIT and managed to recruit Aneesa, Carly and Adam to carry out my evil plans. However, Lorraine got us all trying to figure out how to make balloon animals (she's doing an event for the children at the school she volunteers at), and by the time we determined we were never, ever going to be able to survive as balloon animal makers, it was ten. Bangalore's biggest flaw is that everything absolutely poselutely must be closed at 11:30, so we jetted over to Zero G in a rickshaw (of course we couldn't find it initally.)

The door man let us girls in free, but charged Adam 500 cover charge. This could be used for drinks, but considering we had about an hour and a half to use it all, this meant hitting the likker pretty ardently and passionately.

I loved the place, however. Zero G is on the top of a large office building, and the dance floor and bar are open air, featuring lots of chrome accents and sparkly lights. It was Bollywood night and the music was fantastic, and I threw myself onto the dance floor, immediately getting some sympathetic Indian guys to teach me some Hindi dance moves. (I love jumping into the air and chanting OM SHANTHI OM when that song comes on. People who have done any clubbing in India know exactly what I mean.)

The others weren't up for dancing, so in disgust, I worked up the nerve to talk to an attractive guy I noticed lounging in the corner and looking bored. To my suprise, he was willing enough to talk to me - apparently he had to act nice because he was here with all the Big Important Guys from his IT company - and we chatted for a while. He was even kind enough to buy me some whiskey that wasn't swill, which was a nice change from the 35 rupee Old Monk I usually content myself with.

Unfortunately, the rain began pissing down - no other word for it - and the rickshaw back was almost unpardonably damp. We were pleasantly suprised at the aquatic abilities of your garden variety rickshaw though - the driver cut it through the foot and a half deep water with skill and talent. So we didn't fall in a pothole and drown after all.