Remembering ‘Burger Night’

Wifey's Meaty Buns
It was the burger that did it…

It was a year ago today…

I was very anxious to meet Wifey after a 4-month absence. The last I had met Wifey prior to that was when I returned from a heartache-nursing monsoon-dive trip where we had lunch with Spena…and I had known her for three months then. And after so many makan-makan do’s she had had at her house, she finally decided to ask me to this ‘Burger Night’…or maybe because I complained to her non-stop for her discriminating me.

Anxious as I was, I was also feeling apprehensive that day as I felt quite inferior whenever I was with her. Here was this single mother who became my friend; neither of us existed on each other’s List of Probable Conquests, and she had so many suitors that included my own former classmate from my alma mater, several of my juniors from the same alma mater, one Datuk who tried to get into her knickers by enticing her with his mean fried rice, and another Dato’ who used to have some kind of family ties through my brother’s previous marriage, one vertically-challenged guy who was desperate to have his virginity taken by her, one of her colleagues…and technically, she was still going out with this ex-colleague of hers. I say technically because if she was married to the guy, she would be categorised as either gantung tak bertali or Ibu Tinggal. She calls him Mr Lip Service. Most of them are well-off, drive Beemers, wine and dine her at places I cannot afford, have the idea that a night out at the Malaysian Philharmonic Orchestra thingy at KLCC would be a perfect date with her, occassionally burn their bum-hair by the fireplace somewhere in Switzerland, and there I was, driving a Naza Ria, with a 6-pack that had heeded the government’s call for all banks to merge…leaving only a single pack, and more hair on my legs than on my head. My idea of a concert is the RM9.90 VCD of Sting‘s concert performed back in the early years of this century; my idea of a perfect dinner would be Ramly‘s burger with cheap cheese, rotten salad, and a slice of slimy tomatoes sold for RM2.50 each.

Yes, yes, I felt THAT inferior. I’d better stop this self-flagellating exercise before I am found guilty of trying to turn a garrulous writing into elegant prose or something.

But I always felt comfortable whenever I was with her.

And on ‘Burger Night’, comfortable would be a total understatement. Thinking that I would not see her again for at least half-a-year after that, gave me the courage to steal a hug from her and a kiss on her cheek – half expecting her to give me a tight slap in return. That slap never came. Soon, I found the courage to even ask her to sit on the armrest of the one-seater I was sitting on, and I held her, one arm around her waist, pulling her close to me.

Wifey and I getting cozy
Getting Cozy

Three nights later, we went out on our first date – and the rest, as they would say, is history.

Here we are, a year later, in this room at the Mandarin Oriental, on a mid-week de-stressing getaway, and also to celebrate a year of our courting.

Yes, we are always courting, and we plan to carry on courting ’til the day one of us leaves this world. It is always nice that we are still very much like when we were just a couple of lovers – I can say for sure that we fall in love with each other on a daily basis. Everyday now, ever since we became an item, we’d be anxious to see each other again…plus minus some hiccups along the way, which would be normal in any marriage. Everyday I would discover something beautiful about her.

Right just now, before she fell asleep, she commented on how I look younger and better than I did when we first met each other, and even better than during ‘Burger Night’. I don’t know about looks; but I will admit that I feel a lot better, far happier, than those days. And what I love about this marriage of ours is that our relationship is an emotional equipoise. Everything is so well-balanced.

And it all began with ‘Burger Night’…

Wifey's Phat Burgers
Wifey’s Phat Burgers