Dang, I wish I could remember the day’s events long enough to blog about them.

Anyway.

My family and I went around after church to look for a place to eat dinner. It was raining earlier so we wanted something warm and sheltered, not drizzled and having puddles of rain.

So we went to this relatively new but known steakhouse. Ooo errr. It was at a tiny office building. They had them caddies/people who get to try different cars each day. Looks expensive, I thought.

We walked in. We looked alienated, being the middle-class-dressed people we were. I looked around and at last I found some family which wasn’t dressed to the nines. There was a fishtank as well. Whoa. Not your average western food joint.

The menus came. The prices? Three times anywhere else. There weren’t even drinks in the menu! Was that a ploy? That if you were to ask, they’d pass you a “drinks menu” that consisted mostly of old ales?

As always, at any western food outlet, I’d pick fish and chips. It’s usually the cheaper of the expensive choices, and it’s the only one I know how to eat! Besides that, it’s boneless and has chips. 🙂 I ordered oxtail soup. Authentic, down to the chunks inside. Even the fish was flaky.

I looked around. There were conversations all around conducted in an overly proper manner. My mom overheard escargot while on my side there was this loud lady talking about Petaling Street.

The best part was the bill. When it came, my dad looked at it, stumbled and fumbled through his wallet, in search for his credit card. They took out a Kilometrico (read: cheap ballpoint pen) for him to sign the bill with. He continued looking stoned facing the wall behind me. I grimaced internally. Over RM160! You could buy 20 McDonald’s meals with that amount of money.

My mother, sister and brother came back from their mandatory visit to the toilet. Seems it’s a habit for us to go check out toilets. My dad showed my mom the bill. We kept quiet.

Later we got in the Perodua Rusa (probably the only locally produced vehicle in the vicinity!) My mom asked if the bill was correct. She fumbled with the torchlight and announced the grand total. My dad went, “What? Next time I must bring my spectacles!”

That was scary… I didn’t know my dad didn’t read the total! My mom checked to see if the bill was correct, and yes it was. 🙁

This made me wonder: Would I ever be able to afford to eat there again? To afford to eat like that every day? Heck, I didn’t find it a mind-blowing intestine-lining experience anyway. I’d feel more at home and still derive gastrointestinal satisfaction from a greasy burger from the local burger stall. That would cost like RM2. More than 80 times less!

P.S.: This brings a new line to my Quotes page:
“Money can’t buy happiness but it sure can buy pleasure.”