Well, at least I think that's the name of the cafe I went to yesterday. It should be. Yes I’m sure after googling it. My Chinese tuition teacher brought my brother and me along for dinner (my mandarin is that bad...). We took the MRT (that’s mass rapid transport for you if you didn’t know) to City Hall on the way there I was telling her how I would have ignored anyone I used to know if I met on the streets. Ironically, I met this guy I know while crossing the road and said hi.
At last we reached “Rocky Masters,” each of us ordered a pizza: Hawaiian, mushroom and barbecued chicken. Boy, was it tough translating my tuition teacher’s order for mandarin to English. Just as we were about make out payment (her treat. Though we insisted to paying for it), someone comes and taps her from the back. We look back and soon find out—it’s her friend! Duh.
So he paid for the meal, we thanked him like the good kids we are, sit down and wait for our food. Awkward silence ensued. That’s until my chine—let’s just call J shall we? (HA. HA just like in bloody Monday.) Starts telling her friend about us. Yay me. The food arrives, we eat, we talk, everyone is happy…She even buys pizzas back for my parents who decided to give them to us for breakfast. Oh yeah, her friend gave us a ride backJ. We even managed to see the lights in China town. Great, now you know where I’m from and that bothers me somehow….
Oh and I’m banned from using the computer on weekdays. Great. Oh well, not like thats going to happen.
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