I don’t plan for this to happen, but sometimes the day just goes by, scheduling itself around eatings. Jumped out of bed this morning sometime just before noon, awoken by my cell announcing a new text message. It was Andrea, wondering if we were still on for lunch. Oh, um, yes, please, and sorry about the late. Lunch at the Viet Café in Suntec City was beef noodles, of course, followed by Vietnamese drip coffee, of course, and sweet condensed milk. Andrea sent her cappuccino back twice because it was too milky and not foamy enough, before finally canceling the order. As we were on our way out the door, one of the army of young, affable, clueless waitstaff approached, with a triumphant grin and a cup of coffee. “Will you try this?” “Well, we didn’t want another one, and now we’re leaving. . .” “But we tried our best!” So we sat back down and Andrea, after quietly debating whether their insistence signaled a poisoned cappuccino, took a sip. Better, but still too milky. It’s an unusual thing when a restaurant tries really, really hard to do things the way you want it. And then stands there eagerly and makes you try each of its tries. And then fails anyway.

Just as we parted, Ren called, announcing that she’d just discovered all her files deleted off her computer. Because Citibank is seconds away from Suntec City, clearly this meant we needed to meet and have a drink. Turns out her boss deleted her files last night while trying to create a back-up program. AH HA HA HA. Really, this is a good thing, because from now on she can do anybloodything she wants at work, because the response to anything her boss may say will be: “Oh, wait, was it I who deleted all your files from the last six months? Oh, no, that was you.” Also, if she ever needs to make a quick getaway from the office, she can put a cupped hand to her ear and say: “Excuse me, I hear my files being deleted.”

Just as we parted, Jacq called, and because Jacq works elsewhere at Citibank, and because I was still right there, clearly this meant we needed to meet and have a drink. And then because Jacq was involved in this escapade, a drink meant a hazlenut latte and carrot cake at Millenia.

Pause for a quick trip to the gym. . .

. . . and then back in action with Jacq for a nasi padang dinner: plates of curry squid, kang kong, brinjal curry, tempeh, and chicken rendang; glasses of lime juice and hibiscus juice; mounds of rice on banana leaves. A table away, three large men with smaller plates waffled on about how they’d ordered too much food. We scoffed between mouthfuls, and then went and got scoops of Kuri Kuri chestnut ice cream at Bugis Junction.

Oh, Singapore, how tasty you are.