Skip to main content

Food mood, drink think


A couple of nights ago, I was at ‘Fire and Ice’ on complimentary passes. Such passes now determine whether I go dancing or stay home and plan visits to Khadakvasla in my head.

J, my steady date in such exploits, usually accompanies me after putting her baby to bed. However, Friday night, the nocturnal arrangements were speeded up as the three year old had social engagements of her own. She was invited to sleep over at a friend’s house. And since such prospects merit severe immediacy, the child ran in, shouted ‘Goodbye’ to her mum, waved at me in manner of dismissing a fruit fly, and was off.

J and I got dressed. She, resplendent in a white, sheer number, and I in a merlot, stretchy thing that doesn’t need ironing. (I’m quite no-nonsense in my attire as untidy people are wont to be.)

Now, Fire and Ice is J’s favorite jaunt. Personally, I think it’s more like Extinguished Fire and Melted Ice. The bouncers are rude, the DJs are insipid (I’ve seen more zing in a Windows pop-up), and the music cannot be danced to sober.

But that’s just me.

J took to the dance floor with gusto and was the centre of an admiring crowd. Left to my devices, I went to the bar to find out the price list. (My ways are nothing fancier than hollering, ‘How much is the beer?’ and ‘350 for wine! Seriously? Why?’) I’m sure the guys next to me thought it very gauche but I noticed they paid close attention to the bar tender’s details. Feels nice when people enjoy the fruits of your labour, decadent though they might be.

Anyway, equipped with information, I elbowed my way to J who was warding off attention from an earnest-looking bloke. I rattled off the prices and we decided to have tequila. An unsatisfactory choice.

Drinks over, the rhythm continued to get J and I frisked about the dance floor observing the crowd. This got me thinking about the question that lubricates inter-personal behavior in clubs: Can I buy you a drink?

First of all, no-one has ever asked me that. About this, several theories exist, all of them unflattering and therefore unmentionable here. My own take on the matter is that people see me exhibiting vegetable market-like behavior at the bar and think of their own diminishing stock of food. Why would you want to ask someone for a drink who reminds you of the cauliflowers and beans you forgot to buy yesterday? That is it. I evoke the domestic conscience.

So I buy my own drink and count the number of times that question is asked around me.

Some are classic queries delivered with panache. Some others come quivering with doubt. I can empathize with that hesitation, actually. I remember feeling that way when I got into a train to Churchgate for the very first time. The indicators were not working and the only way I could find out if that was the correct train was to walk up to a group of loud men and ask.

Okay, perhaps it’s not quite the same thing as asking someone for a drink. Although it must be pointed out that in both cases, the indicators were not working.

Sometimes ladies accept. I think they do that because it’s too loud and saying ‘No’ would only mean that the enquirer would want an explanation. And that’s too tedious to provide given the din. But in cases where the lady declines and the man shrugs and walks away, I feel a little sad. There’s something about a shrug that makes even the most hardened cad look vulnerable. These guys then maybe shuffle about here and there before approaching another woman. And if she says no, more shuffling and more approaching. Like that, like that.

But what really stumps me is how nobody asks about the food. How come nobody murmurs, ‘Would you like some sauteed mushrooms?’ or ‘Can I get you sheikh kebabs?’ or even ‘How about some French fries?’ Why don’t men ever ask a girl in a bar if she wants to eat? Do they think that women somehow generate a bovine system of nourishment in a club? That they would regurgitate past meals and not need fresh sustenance?

Men should know that women assess offers of dehydrating potions more strictly than offers of something solid, such as food or diamonds. And the former can be more easily arranged for in a bar.

In fact, several documentaries catalog gender behavior in clubs and peg it to anthropological evolution. So the way a man stands with his legs astride is somewhat like the hunter who surveyed the hinterland before beginning his chase. Or the way a woman tucks a wisp of hair behind her ear points to the eternal need for hair products. (No, it’s got nothing to do with men. Sorry.)

So if that’s the deal with primordial antics and contemporary behavior, it’s clear that the ‘question’ should be about food, not drinks. Which primeval food-gatherer with procreational proclivities went hunting for Bacardi instead of bison or berries?

Suffice to say that if one must play the mating game, one may as well do it right. Like the determined Neanderthal who scored with his girl because he brought back a succulent piece of a T-Rex and not some simpering bottle of Fosters. (It’s not a documented case per se, but I did think this up after having Horlicks. Therefore, I must be right.)

As with all avant-garde theories, I’m sure this will take its time to catch on. It’ll be a while before a man goes up to a woman, looks into her eyes, and says, ‘Chicken lollypop?’ Of course, with the bird flu and all, she may just have him quarantined, but there’s a risk in everything now, isn’t there?

As a woman, I do know this –a man who wants you to be fed is infinitely more appealing than one who wants to get you drunk.

Gender benders aside, the road to the heart (if that’s where you’re headed) is a burpy ride.

Comments

karmic said…
LOL.. I feel so dated. How times have changed.

The bouncers are rude, the DJs are insipid (I’ve seen more zing in a Windows pop-up), and the music cannot be danced to sober

They need a lesson in customer service. Bouncers ought to be rude to the drunks and they types who break the rules in these places.

350 for wine! Seriously? Why?’
My response Yowza!

But what really stumps me is how nobody asks about the food.
I think it's cos drinks esp the alcoholic variety help break the ice.. that only partly explains things though.

Or the way a woman tucks a wisp of hair behind her ear points to the eternal need for hair products.
Or it points to her having really thin, silky hair which is hard to keep in place. ;-)
Oh well..later..
Chitra said…
The way to a (wo)man's heart is through the stomach ?? :)
neha said…
About the hair tucking thing, I think it has got something to do with the hair-dressers too.

All in the name of "framing the face", they (the hair) are left to that uncomfortable length where you just have to keep tucking them behind the ear!!
Rhyncus said…
Thanks for the tip. Next time I'm in Pune, am going to go around each pub I visit offering to buy women French fries or stuffed mushrooms. I just hope some woman doesn't think I'm simply a proactive waiter.
White Magpie said…
May I buy you some succulent lambchops?
Mukta Raut said…
Hi karmic,

I take it you like women with thin, silky hair? :-)

Hi chitra,

I think absolutely.

Hi neha,

yes.. and those irritating strands that keep itching at the nape of your neck. No kind of tucking useful there.

Hello rhyncus,

It doesn't have to be Pune. I think it will work anywhere. And no matter how proactive a waiter, he won't be 'buying' stuff for anyone, so you have nothing to worry about. :-D

Hi white magpie,

:-D... tempted.
karmic said…
Hi karmic,
I take it you like women with thin, silky hair? :-)

Ahem.. dare I say it is a weakness of mine yes.

All in the name of "framing the face", they (the hair) are left to that uncomfortable length where you just have to keep tucking them behind the ear!!
Neha..Truer words haven't been..

just hope some woman doesn't think I'm simply a proactive waiter.
rhyncus.. you may be aok.. just don't go dressed as one.. ;-)
Anonymous said…
"...a man who wants you to be fed is infinitely more appealing than one who wants to get you drunk."...so very true Mukta. Food is not only a way to a man's heart but to a woman's heart too. What bounds together is the basic necessity!
---Khushi

Popular posts from this blog

First Impressions: How to Get Away with Murder (Netflix)

 I love courtroom dramas.  I love non-linear storytelling. I love thrillers. I love tender love stories that embellish such series of grit, grime, and blood. This series delivers on all counts, dips somewhat after a couple of seasons, gets uneven and predictable (when it is less courtroom and more drama) and then finishes strong. The series centers around Annalise Keating who is a fierce, black criminal lawyer who also teaches a class in criminal law (which she calls 'How to Get Away with Murder'). As a teaching methodology, she gets her class to weigh in on her live cases. Part of her strategy also involves picking a handful of promising students and have them work in her 'lab' where they get to help her in strenuous arguments and civil suits, etc. The plot thickens, a murder happens, people get involved, incriminated, incarcerated, and dead. I found a couple of characters in this cast to be really unlikeable - Michaela, Laurel, and Bonnie. After the first couple of se

That kind of a day, that kind of a thought

 It was Eid and Ekadashi today. Thus far, I have managed to keep the fast for Ekadashi. But we still have 2 hours to go so...let's see. I had this urge to go to a temple. There is a small one near my house. Today it was filled with people singing keertans. So I went to the  Iskcon. I like the temple. It's so big and bustling. It's organised and musical.  But today was very crowded. Usually I go to temples and do a quick pranaam without offering flowers or fruits. But I felt like buying a thali. I got one with some fruits, tulsi leaves and a single marigold flower that lay there like a fully energized petaled sun. There was a long queue and I was already feeling stressed in the pit of my stomach. But the line kept moving and just like that, I had my darshan and I got done.  I came out and thought of getting a flower for the pooja room in my home. I bought a lotus. The florist fluffed out the petals and it looked like a sweet little bird.  I caught an auto back and as is my n

A very bad mood

 I have been trying to sleep for a while but have not been able to. I am in a very bad mood. Turns out I am very averse to change. Things are crap.  Deep breaths are not helping. I am feeling very trapped. The anger and irritation is quite intense. Let me take a few moments to just quietly watch myself.  Works