For this post, I’m going to do something different. I’ve asked my sister, Stacey (who will be purple), to provide her input. Five years ago, we took a trip to Singapore and I wanted to get some of her take on what happened the night we celebrated her husband’s birthday. With that, I have more stories from Singapore I will share another time. Without further ado….
When I was a freshman in high school, my sisters, my brother-in-law, and I went to visit my dad and stepmum in Singapore. They relocated there after my stepmum took a new position with Hilton hotels, and invited us to visit. When they first went, my dad wanted to work at the zoo, but after some thought, he had to decline. He was offered a job as one of the new apes, but the zoo keepers were afraid he’d figure out how to work the gate and let the other apes out. Instead, he took another job elsewhere and told me every day I was there what it was he did and I still have no idea what it was.
He seemed to have his blackberry glued to his hands and face at all times though, even when he would fall asleep mid-conversation on the bus. (I also have no idea what he did.... Or even what he does now. He should have taken the zoo job and made everything easier to understand.)
My dad and Sara wanted to celebrate Travis’s birthday (I don’t remember how old he was turning), so they took us to a classy restaurant operated by a Hilton hotel. This was the sort of place the waitresses wore dresses in and we were quite underdressed in our shorts and tank tops. You don’t order here, they just bring you a six course meal and you have to eat it.
Umm, I don't remember how old he was turning either. In fact the other day he asked ME how old he was. Like I know. We've only been married 6 years and I can't even remember my own age these days, let alone be responsible for knowing how old someone else is.
|The birthday boy!|
But we were definitely under dressed. Actually, even if we were all dressed to the nines, we still wouldn't have fit in.
Ah yes, the food. Remember the stuff that looked like monkey brains? (Actually it might have actually been monkey brains, I don't remember.)
I’m pretty sure I only ate one course and that was the dessert.
My sisters and brother-in-law were of legal drinking age there, so they all ordered alcohol. Stacey and Stephanie had some fruity thing and Travis got beer. I got shark fin soup. Okay, we all got shark fin soup. I wasn’t going to eat it anyway, but when Sara told us how they got those fins, I had to cover my bowl with a napkin. When the waitress came back, I made her take it away (want to know what they do? They take the sharks out of the water, cut off their fins, and throw them back in. That’s vile and cruel and sad).
Whoa whoa whoa! Some fruity thing?! That my dear was the Singapore Sling. The only thing I drank there except for the places we went that didn't have it. How do you not have the Singapore Sling... In Singapore! I miss that drink. I've made it here a few times but its never the same. Sadness. Anyway!
Does it make me a horrible person to say that I kinda liked the shark fin soup? I mean, eating sharks is bad. Poor sharks.
|Stacey, I hate to burst your bubble, but you were not having|
a Singapore Sling. Those are red.
Hell yes I got another one. I should have been arrested for alcohol abuse. Ohhhh Singapore Sling how I miss you. Come back to me and we'll run away together. (I promise I'm not drinking while writing this. Maybe.)
No, that’s not right. Stephanie was nearing the end of hers when the waitress came over to clear plates, and in a moment of confusion, her drink was knocked over. The waitress thought it was her fault (it wasn’t) so she brought her a BRAND new one. Stacey took her drink and that’s how she got another drink.
And I also ordered another Singapore Sling. YUM!
But, it wasn't a Singapore Sling.
I remember some food was thrown, we knocked more stuff over, Sara swore she was going to get fired, and my dad wanted to deny knowing us.
|These were the looks we got all evening.|
It was awesome. I knocked over my husband's soy sauce and he got all pissy at me because he was sure the waitress would think it was him. Like she would even notice the soy sauce with how badly we destroyed that table cloth.
Good times. I also stole napkins (the cloth kind) from the bathroom. Cause I turn into a klepto when I drink. Or visit hotels. Oops, probably shouldn’t admit that.
The night before we left Singapore, they took us to an “American” restaurant, assuming we would fit in better there.
|Last day in Singapore!|
|Yes. We're weird.|
P.S. If you’d like to hear more from Stacey, her blog is posted on the right side under the bee photo.