Office annual bonding outing happened on Friday. I felt vaguely guilty because I would be bonding while actually looking for employment elsewhere – but then again, no employment elsewhere seems to be forthcoming so I might as well bond.

We have an events department who seem incapable of creative thought despite having the most creative job description in the office. Hence boss has been oft-known to call me or E in to OK or add value to event plans (which no doubt means that the events team secretly hates us – but hey they’re incompetent). However, like most things in the office, I have lost the desire to actually want to add creative input, having lost the will for anything more than the most inane forms of editing.

Anyway having proposde visits to Disneyland and horse riding, apparently the events team had not factored in how team bonding could happen at these events. Or maybe deep down boss did not want to pay for them. So we almost ended up at bowling again – until someone proposed golf and I gave my approval and so it was.

The thing is I’ve always thought golf was a)boring b) not really a sport c)if a sport, a sport for old people. But hey, I’m schmoozing with bankers which is already kind of wanky, so might as well get clued into a wanker sport as well, is what I figured. Though of course, I might not end up being able to hit the ball at all – kind of like karam.

But the thing is, I was able to. And as happens when I find something I’m somewhat good at, I got hooked. I was seriously practicing and asking the golf pro for tips. I practiced so hard I had blisters on my thumbs and by evening my arm was aching. But it felt good – I swear a sport where all you have to do is stand is my thing (I know I know there’s a lot of walking but we weren’t at that stage – actually apparently you never get to that stage in HK because there’s no space for proper greens so they just have these driving range things where you practice swing).

Luckily unlike some of my more ridiculous colleagues I was wearing sneakers (against my better judgement because I hate closed shoes) and even what colleagues kept referring to as a polo shirt (which was actually purchased off Hill Road for Rs 50).

Much sweatiness later – honestly it was like playing in a sauna – we proceeded by taxi to eat spicey crab in Wan Chai. This place is kind of legendary because the owner, who roams around looking like anything but the millionaire that he apparently is, used to cook in a typhoon shelter (not sure what that is) until he was asked to move out and set up with this restaurant which so sucessful that he started three more.

By the time the crab came we were starving out of our minds. Luckily apparently everyone uses their fingers because I really cannot imagine eating crab with chopsticks. We had:
1) Spicey crab: crab sauteed in special recipe of chilli and garlic
2) Spicey crayfish
3) Spicey clams
4) Green sauteed in something
5) Bamboo clams – clam that has a shell shaped like a bamboo shoot

We did not have:
1) Chicken feet

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