Cleaver's Games: March 26

We went to a restaurant on busy Chapel St a couple of nights ago that was staunchly mediocre.

As you'd have guessed from that opening line, the food was nothing to write home about. So I won't.

But it was open late so it was one of few viable options.

As we masticated and ruminated over the day's events, we noticed a disturbance at a nearby table.

"I will kill you, I will kill you," shouted a man of, I'm guessing, Vietnamese heritage at a shell-shocked Anglo-Saxon. Security was called and the offending Asians were removed from the restaurant.

Next thing you know, four of them had gone around to the side of the restaurant, started thumping on the glass and repeated their deadly threats.

It was adrenaline-inducing stuff that appeared to have a satisfactory ending in that at last count nobody was killed. Anyway, among us there are a couple of journos you would kindly describe as creatures of habit.

While the rest of us hung our heads in disbelief, they decided to return to the said-same staunchly mediocre restaurant the next night.

It almost cost them their lives.

"Are you Brent (name changed for witness protection reasons)?" said somebody who looked like your archetypal mafia hitman. "Yeah, that's me," said Brett.

"How about you step outside with me," said mafia hitman.

"OK," Brett said, perhaps a little naively.

Confused by Brett's willingness to comply, mafia hitman asked Brett whether his name truly was Brent.

It was then discovered that Brett's name was actually slightly different. After he'd asked everyone else at the restaurant, including the lone woman, whether they were Brent, he turned on his heels and left. As for Brett, his meal never arrived.

The moral of the story: never eat at the same place twice in a row.

* Among my seven loyal readers, at least three of you would've noticed the oft-negative bent of this blog.

The Aussies have. Poor wee souls.

But out of the murk, a nugget of a story has appeared that has restored my faith in humanity.

It involves a tall, dark and, some would say, handsome Radio New Zealand journalist who can only go by the codename SH.

Being a non-rights holder, SH has had to, at times, wait around like a shag on a rock. On this occasion, he was waiting outside the athletes village for Belinda Colling.

The sun was beating down. There wasn't a scrap of shade to be had.

Then, in the distance, at bang on the time of the appointed interview, appeared Colling. In her hands were a tub of ice-cream and a bottle of orange juice. It was no mirage.

"Here you go, mate," Colling said, or words to that effect (SH was too dumbstruck to take legible shorthand notes). "I thought you might need these."

Doesn't that warm the cockles of your once stone-cold heart? Doesn't it make you want to reach into your pockets and start donating to a worthy charity?


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READERS' VIEWS

Come on Dylan - you have a day or so left - you too can lift yourself to the heights of some coveted NZ tin. Forget Oz and NZ for a change - their netballers look like some mutant offspring of a terrifying Clark / Howard tryst. Even that South African. Focus on the Jamaican gals. Netball or track and field - if they want a team masseur I will voluntarily offer my services next time round. And get out of those Prahran restaurants and start concentrating on that 3km walk from the MCG to the media centre, you have become an inspiration...your demeanour has lifted already.
- John McIlvena

If you're looking for restaurants in Melbourne that are not staunchly mediocre, try looking a little bit further north, possibly as far as Swan St, Richmond. Admittedly you may not encounter the adrenalin rush of death threats or a drive by shooting (although these can be arranged for a small fee-tax free of course, and receipts can be issued) unlike your chapel St experience hopefully you'll enjoy the food enough to write home about it!!! And maybe if you talk sweet enough to the waitress/boss she may even give you a free beer or 2 (yes Singha is now back in stock). If icecream is all it takes to warm your cockles, well I'll personally organise a scoop or 2 for you and your friends upon arrival. Who knows maybe you'll be seated next to some of the leading sporting personalities Melbourne has, or if not at least next to someone whose main aim in life is not to take your life.
- DB