I went to Browns yesterday for dinner with my brother. We have established having dinner at a fancy restaurant at least once a week. Partly because we like to pretend we are posh, partly because we both love food just as much, and partly because I’m always too bored to cook anything decent (my brother can’t cook yet).

The routine is: We go in; I insist they do not seat us in front of the window and they look at me funny because apparently everybody wants to sit by the window. Then we stare at the drinks menu for about 10 minutes before we order a bottle of wine at random. We have the wine brought to our table and ask for a few more minutes to decide on what we’ll be eating. That takes forever since that is when we start chatting away sipping on wine. After a long debate and a couple of interruptions from the polite waiter (/waitress) we order our starter to share and our main courses. We always ask for something we have not tried before.

The starter is never the best dish of our dinner and the wine is hardly ever the way we like it (although I am learning the different types and can now recognise the ones we like). The main courses though always ROCK! And we get so stuffed that there is no room for desert.

Last night things happened differently. The wine and the starter were amazing while the main courses we did not like so much. We even ordered desert! What’s up with the universe?

Oh this weekend should be wild, I need a wild one.

I may have been doing nothing but that doesn’t mean that boys don’t just want to have fun as well. Bring on Bonfire night! Bring on the fireworks! Bring on the dogs gone mad because of the loud bangs.

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Written by Colin Brooks on 05.11.05 at 6:45 am.