1.) On Thursday night Nicola treated us to the Hollywood Bowl for the French Masters Night. But I like to call it Classic Nicola Night because, as usual, she classed the thing right up. As anyone who has been to the Hollywood Bowl with me knows, I'm a cheap seats kind of girl. But not with Nicola. She managed to score box seats that came with valet parking. Which means that we did not have to walk the mile and a half up hill after paying $12 for parking. Oh no. We drove right up behind the bowl and dropped our car off and headed to our box, where we couldn't even see the seats we normally sit in.
2.) On Friday night we had our regular Olympic Opening Ceremonies party. We totally stuck the landing with all the delicious food. We had stuff from Italy, the Philippines, Switzerland, the Netherlands, Brazil and France. And we had a great time watching it in China and making fun of the Hungarian teams outfits. Thanks to everyone who came and fed us.
3.) Lizzie had a birthday! And to celebrate we went to an Indian restaurant where I ordered something called khahiri chicken. Except that the waitress, who sounded like she may have been fresh from Mumbai, thought I said curry chicken. I can see how she would mix it up because the way she was saying them made them sound exactly the same. Here's the convo we had after she brought every one else's food out:
Her: Did you want the curry chicken or the curry chicken?
Me: I think it was called khahiri chicken but I'm not sure.
Her: Okay, the curry or the curry?
Me: Um...maybe it's not khahiri. It started with a kh. Do you have
anything like that?
Her: Yes. We have the curry chicken and the curry
chicken.
Me: Do you have a menu? I could point it out to you.
Her: So you got the curry chicken?
Me: Not the curry, the khahiri.
Her: Right, I'll bring you curry.
By this point (that point being everyone at the other table asking for take home boxes) I was ready to just eat the rest of my naan and call it day. But it was also pure comedy and I can appreciate that. I don't actually know if I got khahiri chicken. It looked a lot like Brett's curry chicken but it said khahiri on the bill so who knows. And either way it was tasty.
So, I didn't actually head out of Dodge but I'm also pretty sure that Dodge does not serve curry chicken or curry chicken. I'm totally counting it.
6 comments:
Even though I sat farther from you than the Bollywood dancers on the telly, I witnessed your "curry chicken or curry chicken" incident.
And it was hilarious!
Probably one of my favorite moments from that night. (And I have a lot of them!)
[Oh, and I know you meant Friday night for the Olympics party! Vive la France!]
I wish I lived close enough to go to your fun parties. I think the Olympics party sounded fantastic. And the Indian restaurant. Oh so funny. You just have good times all around! Thanks for sharing the hilarity.
I'm so sad that I live far away that I don't get to experience these Rachel moments, but I absolutely love the way you re-tell them. I can picture the whole thing, it's like I was there!
Yeah, that was pretty darn hilarious with the curry chicken. . . maybe I got the kharihi chicken when I asked for the curry. . . I really don't know--it wasn't a typcial curry that I have had at other Indian restaurants. Anyhow, thanks for that conversation with the Indian waitress--I enjoyed every minute of it!
Thanks for the reminder of the Hungarian's outfits. I am not sure which was more disturbing, the the sofa fabric dresses or the mime hats. Poor athletes.
Ok, I had that exact conversation over at my end of the claustrophobic universe. EXACT. Our waitress forgot me 3 times. She forgot to bring my water, she forgot to bring me my curry kahahakfiriwammalammahi, and she forgot my check. The last one I was ok with.
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