Strolled into a steakhouse in Dubai, aptly called “Hunters” as the Italian restaurant only started serving food at seven. It was 18h15 and I was hungry. Sue me. No pasta then.
The waiter asked if I was on my own as he couldn’t see my imaginary friend. It’s a hippo in a tutu and her name is Angelique. (I’ve been alone for four days.) He directed me to a small table and insulted my hippo girlfriend further by removing her placemat. Now I not only felt sad, I looked the part too. Fortunately there was no one in close proximity of where I was being forced to sit. Continue reading