Special K = Beyonce? I think not. ((c) beyonceonline)
Who is The Cellar Rat? Who is Agent Red Wolf? Who is M-Dawg? Frequent are inquiries about this blog’s recurring “characters”, hidden as they are by pseudonym. Suffice it to say, they tend to be lovers of food, drink, or nightlife, or even all three.
They also are the source of crucial “ground zero” information.
Consider Special K.
We went to Le Petit Gourmand on Saturday for a “working afternoon.” An outside observer might query how checking sports scores, playing with vitamins, and chewing on half a chicken – activities that consumed about 98 percent of his time – constitute work. However, the following dialogue shows his value to you, the reader.
It was 2:52 PM. Our laptops were fully charged. Coffee was within arm’s reach.
I diligently worked on three posts as Special K critiqued ESPN and worked through his French fries.
Then came the critical moment.
A song by Alicia Keys started to play. His fragile attention span shifted from the carnage on his plate to the groove in the air. He started to do what the charitable might classify as “dancing.”
“Look at me.”
“No.”
“C’mon, look at me.”
“Let me finish this post.”
“Look, I’m Beyonce,” he said. As he jerked about, I imagined Le Petit Gourmand’s staff searching the bar for a taser.
“You’re who?”
“I’m Beyonce.”
“Beyonce? You think you’re Beyonce? First, you’re a guy. Second, she doesn’t dance anything like that.”
He stopped, saving the staff a call to the ever-friendly Tongli Studio security guards. But he’s the diligent type. A song by Seal came on and he started dancing again.
“OK, look at me now.”
“No, I’m working.”
“Hey, look at me. I’m Seal.”
“What are you talking about? Those are the same moves you were doing for ‘Beyonce’.”
He stopped.
“No, my finger is closer my mouth and I’m not moving my… what do you call it… my ‘trunk’.”
“I didn’t realize Seal put his finger in his mouth when he danced.”
“Dude, that finger is supposed to be my microphone.”
“Oh. [Awkward silence] How’s the chicken?”
“I have a cold, but it seems pretty good.”
There you have it: Special K says the chicken at Le Petit Gourmand is “pretty good“, even if you have a cold. That’s the kind of information for which people come to this blog.
By the way, I never reveal the identity of a source such as Special K, in part because he prefers anonymity and in part because I imagine I’m saving him from deportation.
Is this what the future holds for Special K? ((c) viewimages.com)
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