We had probably arranged to meet for a climb in the first quarter of the year, at the time I had first become engrossed with the sport. Alas, as my enthusiasm wavered, she gained social climbing circle. It was at that point that our progress began shifting in opposite directions.
I first headed to Hair Bank, where a stylist by the same name as Red Velvet's tallest member carefully tamed my frizzy, scraggly strands.
Once our tags were securely knotted, it was time to start climbing!
The most amusing aspect of the auto-belays were the animal-shaped holds, likely an initiative to encourage the younger generation to commence climbing.
I do wish to add that, since the top rope routes can involve a steep starting incline, it's essential for the belayer below to be aware of pendulum swings from sudden falls. Returning to the exact spot that you left off is another challenge that I later familiarized myself with (all too well).
My outstretched hand summoned the same member of staff who had taken our orders.
He looked at us blankly for a split second before responding in slightly broken English, "Ah, would you like together or separate?"
Confused and frankly a bit annoyed, I proceeded to correct him. "Not the bill. We haven't gotten our food yet."
"Oh!" and off he dashed to check.
And from the gestures exchanged across the bar, it was clear as day that our orders had not been sent to the kitchen at all. Too fatigued to express my displeasure, a knowing look was simply cast in my dining partner's direction.
The same server returned to our table. He apologized, stating the very phrase I had predicted, "Sorry, the kitchen did not get (the order). We are making (it) now."
Summoning the last of my patience and converting it into decency, I sincerely replied, "Ok, but could you please hurry? We are very hungry."
He replied in the affirmative before scurrying away.
"I'm more surprised he was so honest about it." was my answer.
The summer special had been requested with sides of a Seasoned Egg (an extra toonie) and Seasoned Vegetables (an additional $3.50). The latter was nothing more beyond greasy, stir-fried cabbage, and, tasty as it was, I'm undecided as to whether the egg warrants the entire two dollars. The rest of the dish was fine: wavy noodles lubricated with sesame oil, thinly-sliced scallions and moisture-packed daikon, and a tangy ponzu were great complements. A tiny quail egg provided visual appeal in terms of colour, though contributed little in terms of taste.