Fabulista Reiterates: The importance of proper pronunciation.

While having lunch at one’s favourite democratic eatery at the Atrium, one was reminded of the importance of proper pronunciation. The anecdote below is a big blow to the head *ahem* and serves as an indication to the consequence otherwise…

The eatery is unfortunately, also the favourite of many, as they would pronounce themselves “so-fers-ter-catered” (sophisticated) local girls. You know the kind – the ones who sports a perennial tan that puts even Donatella Versace to shame; the ones with a penchant for wearing thin cotton wrap dresses even when they are shopping along the Orchard Road belt, with the ability to pile on cosmetics on their faces that even drag queens would feel embarrassed, who loves white flesh potatoes especially the ones imported from navy ships.

It was while one was lunching, that a group of them sat down next to one’s table, along with a sack of said potatoes (albeit rather good-looking potatoes *wink*). Midway through their meal, one of the “so-fers-ter-catered” girls, with legs that possibly begin at her neck, caught my aural attention. She pushed her dish away with limp-wristed hands and promptly declared, “Oh, I’ve had enerve… the food is rur-lee feeling me up…”

is this being felt up by food?

At this point, one nearly choked on one’s bite of bean curd in the mouth. How on earth is it possible for food to molest a diner? How on earth does food feel someone up? I am not sure if the sack of potatoes were as dense as their female equivalent seated opposite them, but they appear to comprehend their outrageous statement. Being the linguistically inquisitive individual that one is, one could not help but glance over in their direction.

With that one glance, all mystery was dispelled – one witnessed the “so-fers-ter-catered” girl who accused the food of molest rubbing her (non-existent) stomache. While trying to sound “so-fers-ter-catered”, she had accused the food of feeling her up (pity the food) while meaning stuffed – “the food is really filling me up”.

One tried to go back to one’s meal. Unfortunately, with my over-active imagnation and the very graphic accusation of food feeling up the uglier than Donatella Versace (if that was possible) super-tan “so-fers-ter-catered” female in an inappropriate cotton wrap dress, one had completely lost one’s appetite… for the next seven days.