Last night I joined a book club. It was my first book club experience (aside from my mom making me lug the books for hers out of the car). There have been opportunities in the past to join or start a book club but inevitably someone says something like, “it’ll be more about getting together and having a girly night than really reading anything,” and I bail. That was until recently, until Maria told me about her book club where they actually read books...
Last night was her turn to organize the venue and I readily accepted her invitation to join. Her pick: the Roma Revolving restaurant. Another first for me. 32 stories below lies the magnificent harbour, then the restaurant’s derelict neighbouring hotel, then the city lights and then the harbour again. To my right (the inside of the restaurant) a Michelangelo-esque mural, followed by an espresso machine, followed by a smiling waving kitchen guy. As I sat listening to book reviews watching the wall move slowly behind the well-read ladies at our table I felt two things; happy to finally be part of such a nice book club, and that I-might-just-throw-up-in-the-prawn-bisque feeling. Bladdy lucky the latter never occurred, I'd never have been allowed back.
The Roma is great venue for a get together (unless you have a rowdy book club table next to you). The passing faux-Michelangelo nudes are a great ice-breaker and the dessert cart is adorable. As for my books, hopefully I’ll finish the two fatties that I chose, considering some girls took up to five books and will gobble them up while still managing to hold down full time jobs.
No comments:
Post a Comment