On Thursday I went to a Brazilian BBQ restaurant in Angel called Rodizio Rico where a myriad of skewered meats are brought to the table and just keep coming until you throw in the towel. Frankly, it was ridiculous. Very tasty, but totally ridiculous. I got meat drunk – it’s a genuine medical phenomena, look it up. There was something primeval, carnal even, about the whole thing. The blooded plates, the reek of iron and the metallic taste on the toungue began, after a while, to evoke strange feelings. Feelings of blood lust, the scent of the battlefield in our nostrils. You could say it was the most macho of dining experiences, an animalistic display of base male stupidity and Ego.
Only, that wasn’t the case. To my surprise, there were more than a few couples on dinner dates. Flesh-feasts, it seems, are passable date destinations. There was even a table of svelte ladies having a girly evening somewhere under vast mountains of steak.
But this was not all. Here are some other weird things from the evening:
- The presence of a wedding reception complete with bride still in gown. Rumours of finger-feeding the groom barbequed chicken hearts is unconfirmed.
- Two members of said wedding reception hoovering up the china in the cubicle. Clearly wind assistance is needed when sitting down to an all you can eat meat buffet that someone else has paid for to truly ‘do it justice.’
- On entering the toilets I was confronted by a man who, unaware of my presence, was taking down his trousers and pants, exposing his bare arse to me. All done, by the way, while facing the sink and the mirror. Upon noticing my arrival, he casually pulled up his hosiery and turned the 180 degrees to face the urinals and continued about his business in the usual manner. Odd.
Clearly, consumed in extremis, meat will do strange things to the human condition.
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