Cat Lady & Egg Yolk Cocktails

Yesterday after my RSA class I met up with Paris and Jess to check out an apartment over near Bondi Beach. The apartment was dirty and stinky, again. I'm beginning to wonder if I may end up having to just suck it up and deal with the stink for a few months, because I need a place and that is what seems to be out there. Hoping today will be the day!

On our bus ride to Bondi, we encountered Cat Lady. I have met numerous women in my short lifetime who I would classify as crazy cat ladies, but this woman tops them all. She got on the bus holding a bunch of shopping bags (normal) and also holding her cat (not normal) who was wearing a hot pink sweater and was on a leash (really not normal). Now lets all stop and get a good mental picture of this. First, when in your life have you ever seen someone get on a bus, or any form of public transportation for that matter, holding their beloved cat? And then ask yourself when in your life have you ever seen a cat on a leash? The answer for me was never and never. The cat, by the way, looked a little something like this:

Ok, so picture this cat smooshed in a pink sweater with a leash around its fat neck heaved over its owners shoulder on a bus. Cat Lady and cat were sitting directly across from us. The old Australian man sitting next to me burst out laughing, and I was fighting to hold it in. Then she said how her cat was tired from a long day of shopping and was upset because she likes to have her own seat on the bus. YES, she actually ran her errands with her cat on a leash! Can you imagine grocery shopping and passing a cat on a leash in the produce aisle? I was dying.

After viewing the apartment, we had to rush back to the city because Jess had her first night of training at an Italian restaurant in Darling Harbor. So of course there was a water burst in some tunnel that resulted in traffic that moved at the pace of a snail. But eventually we made it. While Jess trained for 2 hours, Paris and I went and grabbed some cocktails at Cohibar. Since no one else was there we befriended Shane, the Kiwi bartender. Kiwi is the name of a person from New Zealand. I mean, how can you not like someone named after a juicy tropical fruit? Anyway, he entertained us making some outrageous cocktails. One of Paris's came in a Tiki glass that he lit on fire. My first was a yummy strawberry lemonade type of martini. But my second one, oh lord, my second one was unlike anything I've ever had before.

Shane recommended this cocktail. He said it was one of their most popular drinks, so I trusted his judgement. BIG mistake. Mid-way through making the drink Shane stops and asks, "Are you allergic to egg?". I respond, "No, why?" To which his response was to grab a container and squirt a thick, clear gel into my drink. I gulped. Me: "Ahhhh, what was that??" Shane: "Egg white. You'll see why I need it later." I look at Paris horrified and she bursts out laughing.  Where I come from, egg whites make a delicious omelet and are a key ingredient to some scrumptious baked goodies (often prepared by my sister, Laura), but there is absolutely no instance when I would add them to my beverage to help me unwind in the evening. Is anyone else repulsed by this?! Shane shook up my drink, poured it, and proudly pointed out that the egg white produced a thick white foam on the top of my cocktail. It looked like a beer. But I ordered a cocktail. Oh yes, and then he stuck a cinnamon stick in it. I didn't come to this country to shy away from trying new things, so I quit my gagging, grabbed the straw and downed that sucker as quickly as possible. Needless to say, I will not be ordering that one again. And I may make it a point from now on to specify that my cocktail be egg-free when ordering at Aussie bars.