My friend is under the impression that I’m always starving. Or maybe he’s simply projecting. Either way, every time we meet, the feasting begins and never seems to end.
I’m visiting him in Singapore and haven’t been here for many years. His job, as he’s taken it on, is to have me eat my way through all of the variety of cuisines, of which there is an endless variety. Now I’m game for it but the sheer quantity is just overwhelming. Just when the table is covered in dishes, out come more. There are only two of us, how can we possibly eat twelve servings?? But out they come and eat we do.
One night is Chinese, then the next it’s Malay food, with Indian food coming soon. Let’s not forget the Korean food from last night. It’s a gastronome’s paradise!
Now if only my belly understood this, then we’d be in sync. However, the morning lament is, oh my how you’ve grown! I really need to get you to the gym and back into shape, but I’m a bit peckish right now, so after a snack or two you'll be back on track. Though that snack or two leads into a bit of a meal. Afternoon arrives with a rudeness that can only be combated with a lovely nap. And finally, glorious evening descends with a nice meal on the horizon.
Where was I? Oh, yes, the gym. Hmm, tomorrow. Definitely tomorrow.
If I'm not too hungry, that is.