Last Monday night I popped into Vena’s Roti after work to pick up dinner for me, the Beast and Nick Edwards. It’s not a very fancy restaurant.
And it’s located on a stretch of Bloor, near Lansdown, that’s a bit run down. But none of that matters because these roti are simply delicious, and cheap! I always get the vegetarian one (stuffed full of potatoes, chick peas, spinach and squash), while the Beast usually gets the goat (obviously). I decided that the boys didn’t need meat and I ordered three vegetarian versions.
When I got home I heard the Beast and Nick yelling upstairs. Nick came down the stairs first, and the Beast soon followed–with a black eye!
Foodie: What happened to your eye?
Beast: Huh? Oh yeah. Nick punched me in the fucking face man.
Foodie: Nick! Why did you punch him in the fucking face?
Nick: He made fun of my hands. He said they looked like leather mitts.
Foodie: But they do look like leather mitts!
Nick: That’s not the point.
Beast: Yes it is the point man! And your feet look like flap jacks!
Foodie: Calm down everybody! I think you boys need some dinner. Let’s go into the dining room and see if we can’t work this all out.
I had to turn everybody’s roti out from the take-out container onto their plate. That’s why our dinner doesn’t look terribly appetizing.
Nick: This looks like shit on a plate.
Foodie: Nick! That’s very rude! What’s gotten into you?
Beast: He’s right man. It does look like shit.
Foodie: Excuse me? What’s gotten into YOU? You’ve said, “man” numerous times since I’ve gotten home AND you have a black eye. What’s going on?
Beast: Stop nagging me man. I brought home cannoli for us to eat after dinner.
Foodie: Those look delicious. Thank you.
Nick: Oh yeah? Well I brought you two idiots a case of jamaican beef patties from The Jamaican Queen!
Foodie: Well thank you Nick. That’s a very thoughtful hostess gift. Jamaican patties. Thank you. Would you like some wine?
Nick: No way. I’m on the wagon for a few weeks. But I did bring some lime-flavoured soda. I’ll take some of that please.
And then, out of nowhere—-
Oh, I just can’t keep this up. I can’t keep lying to you people. There was no black eye. There were no rude comments hurled at the dinner table. And the Beast never said, “man”.
I am so sorry. You see, I felt like I really had to deliver on that promised “shocking revelation” bit about the Beast. Poor Stephen (not Stephen from work Stephen–the other Stephen) has been a nervous wreck waiting for the news. But there was no shocking revelation. It was a boring dinner with boring people with no laughs or giggles, and when I started writing this post I just got plain carried away trying to make it shocking. The roti really were delicious though, and the Beast really brought home those cannoli. And Nick really brought Jamaican patties and florescent soda as a hostess gift–but that’s not all together shocking.
I originally came up with the whole cockamamie “shocking revelation” idea when the Beast went to write something (probably boring) on the chalk board during our dinner and he did it with his right hand. But he’s LEFT-HANDED!
This was yellow journalism at its worst. I fear that I’ve lost all credibility as a fake writer. But know this: I will do whatever it takes to win back your trust and your respect Stephen, and everybody else who was waiting to be truly shocked.