Dinner With Mr. Cole: Part II

Wait, are ninjas from China or Japan? Dormitan wondered to himself as he was led through a sea of tables occupied by people on blind dates and first dates and dates in an attempt to try and figure things out as well as people attending business dinners brokering big business deals and dinner parties for anniversaries and birthdays and job promotions by a six foot three inch tall, kimonoed Asian woman with a thick mane of blonde bleached dreadlocks that stopped somewhere between her waist and her knees. Sure, Dormitan could have asked Miss Blondie Dread over there who seemed to almost float across the room in front of him where (she would certainly know) but something told Dormitan that she might not take kindly to the question. Dormitan’s suspicions, of course, probably had something to do with the fact that she was almost a full head taller than him and although it is not at all my intention to make Dormitan out to look like a willy-nilly, the fact is, she intimidated the shit out of him.
“Is he already here?” Dormitan decided to ask instead as he unbuttoned his/Brian’s suit jacket and shoved his hands into his/Brian’s trouser pockets.
It was charcoal grey, the suit, pinstriped and looked as if it had been made for him, fitting his slender frame perfectly. I could get used to this. Dormitan had thought as he had stood in front of his full length mirror checking himself out.
I would totally let myself buy me a drink if I offered to buy me one. Dormitan had then mused a few minutes later as he had flagged down a boda-boda, climbing on, careful not to scuff up his freshly polished shoes.
“I’m going to Ninja.” He had told the boda-boda guy. “Do you know it? It’s in Kololo just after Phase 2.”
The piki-piki transporter dude thought about it for a moment and then,
“Yes, I know it.”
“Are you sure?”
“Yes, yes I know it. We go?”
Dormitan plucked at the gap between his two front teeth with his thumb like he did every time he was thinking for a moment or two and then,
“We go.”
“Who? Mr. Bryce?” Miss Asian Big Foot threw over her shoulder. Although that is not entirely fair because although big, large, long feet are usually equated with tallness it’s not always the truth. So in an attempt not to stereotype maybe I’ll just stick with Blondie Dread.
She had a extremely strong Gaelic accent, Miss Blondie Dread did which gave Dormitan a moment of pause before he could answer.
“Yeah, Mr. Bryce. Has he arrived yet?”
Her snake like dreads writhed as she shook her head.
“Not yet.” Blondie Dread answered.
“Ah, here you go.” She added a moment later stopping before an empty table. In true Japanese fashion it was about three feet off the ground and instead of chairs the table was surrounded by cushions. It was the only table like that in the room.
Dormitan began plucking at his gap.
“Um, I’m all for the full Japanese dining experience but why are we the only people with a table like this?”
“Mr. Bryce requested for it. He’s all about authenticity you know.”
Dormitan rolled his eyes. Groupie…
“So I’ve heard.”
“Excuse me?”
Dormitan shook his head.
“Nothing.”
Suddenly, the suit seemed kind of impractical. Really impractical. Crap.
“Sir, is there anything I can get for you while you wait?”
More plucking.
“Um, yes actually. Do you guys have Sake?”
“This is a Japanese restaurant Sir.”
“Ok but--”
With an audible sigh,
“Yes, we have Sake…sir.”
Pause. Was it just him or was Blondie Dread being a little rude? A little condescending too. Dormitan thought about it for a hot second…she was, she was being rather rude.
Just let it go man, its not worth getting into. Dormitan told himself.
“Um…ok, can I have some of that then?”
“How would you like it?”
“How do you have it?”
“We have it in single servings and then in pitchers.”
Pluck, pluck, pluck, pluck, pluck.
“Bring me a pitcher…please.”
“Yes sir.”
Taking what looked like to be a lot of effort, Snobby Dread took a slight bow and backed away from the table.
After she was a sufficient distance away, Dormitan hitched up his trousers and rounding the table, sat down.