..... is a name of a joint in Bandra Reclamation. I guess, it wants to be known as a Resto-Bar.
Why am I bothered? Wanted desperately to write, but did not have a topic (Sigh ! That can sum up so many days for me).
Was there on Sat night. Not the first time, and going by experience definitely not the last.
And to think we were debating about the choice for so long. Going through the long list of usual suspects :
1. Toto's Garage or "The One CD wonder" (In case I hear "Hotel California" one more time, I swear I'll puke on that owner with dark glasses)
2. Club IX or "Stags are not allowed even in case we have only cleaning staff inside"
3. Boat Club or "The decrepit exterior is nothing when compared to the interior"
4. Purple Haze or "So few people come here that we have decided to make all our money from one customer ... namely YOU"
5. Out of the Blue or "We just went there yesterday"
6. Seijou and the Sole Dish or "Pay through your nose for lousy food"
7. Zenzi or "You call that decor, sonny?"
8. Olive or "Do you really want to get mistaken for a gay couple?"
So TC (a poor apology of its Delhi namesake) was it. The valet parking leading upto two broad halls ... musty smelling reddish-brown upholstery ... seriously tacky plastic coasters and exactly one other occupied table populated by three bored couples ........ their kids running around and shouting like maniacs.
The fun and games started soon after .... with the arrival of an elderly couple and what we assumed then as their daughter wearing a strange peacock blue dress.
The couple seemed to be planning for a lot of guests. An anniversary dinner, we assumed again. Our interest was piqued by the "daughter" running out every five seconds for a phone call. "Ahhhh, a very persistent boyfriend", we sighed. Then people actually started arriving. Two long haired ad-agency types, one girl in a black top, one more in an earth-green one, a guy with the "Kelly Dorji after 20 sleepless nights" look, one flashily dressed stock broker, a rat-faced guy who looks like he has passed out of Osmania University and another ad-agency type. Quite an odd family, we surmised. Imagine our confusion, when they started to introduce themselves to each other ! After wracking our collective brains for about 30 minutes, the penny finally dropped in its place .... its a Business Networking Mixer !!!!! Us and our over-active imagination.
Being quite intrigued by the sheer prospect of perfect strangers meeting each other and "network" their way up the corporate ladder, we decided to watch them closely. These are our findings:
1. There is at least one guy who gets a little high and tries to hit on the middle-aged executive sitting next to him. (The stock broker is the prime suspect).
2. While this happens, the others look embarrassed and pretend hard not to notice.
3. The lady switches her place soon after this, with our esteemed stock broker realising his mistake a little late and trying to make up desperately with loud non-sensical talk.
4. Another guy who wants nothing except for "friendship" has got his new "Kiran Rao" glasses made, but sadly no one's noticed.
5. At least one long-haired ad-agency type tries to impress a young nubile thing with "deep, meaningful" conversation while the lady dutifully looks on in "wide-eyed" innocence.
6. Another "young thing" who is feeling a bit ignored makes a quick trip to the loo to adjust the V-cut top just that wee bit. The strategy works like a charm on the person, for whom it is not intended.
7. The tongue-tied "Osmania University" smokes like a maniac and casts furtive glances at all the tops on display. Gets caught in the act once every ten minutes.
Overall, an enlightening experience. Not counting those heavily decked up and bored housewives continuously counting money in what I thought was a Kitty Party and which my friend insists was a husband-pimping game. The husbands in question gathering towards the far end of the table, speaking in whispers and leching at the other tables. The lovelorn boy who decided to sing "Annie's Song" for his girlfriend and forgot the second line. The curly-haired owner who joins the guitarist for the Eagles numbers and the smashing girl in that black number.
As I said, its definitely not the last time.