"Hey, so if I run for elections in a few years, will you guys support me or not?"
Dead silence.
And then incredulous laughter revalling that of the pack of hyenas moving in for the kill in the movie The Lion King.
"Sure, if you promise to keep COEs, maid levies and the inflation rate low -- oh yes, and if you legislate that the Lions score and win their games, man," said Andrew, one of Matt's dinner guests, trying to keep a straight face.
Then everyone turned quiet when they saw Matt was not laughing.
"Hey you're not going to run because of the money are you?" Andrew said with a sigh. "What for? Increased pay just takes another disincentive away, but there are so many left. You'll have no privacy, a lot of responsibility, and you'll just be sticking your neck out and risking having it whacked if your views are different."
Lisa, an ex-lawyer who just turned 30, said: "Nothing would draw me into politics here." She dumped a loaded spoonful of sugar into her coffee, and then she laughed.
"Except maybe sexy male politicians. But since Keanu Reeves is not likely to become Singaporean and run for elections," she reached for her wine glass, "Could you pass the Riesling, please."
Last week's hot topics flew around the dinner table as quickly as the food was disappearing from everyone's plates: whether the director's cut of Blade Runner was better than the original; which way their stocks would go; and whether an increase in ministerial salaries would draw us into politics.
There seemed to be mor einterest int people's whittling stock market profits than there was about whether more money would attract people to run the country.
Reasons for avoiding politics flew back and forth as a couple more bottles of Riesling were uncorked.
Some were well-founded, the rest, easy excuses. Money, they kept saying, could not make up for the drawbacks: loss of privacy, careers taking precedence, fear of making mistakes and having those exposed inn public, a perception that unless they had been top-rate students with a string of Ivy League scholarships, they are not wanted.
Embedded in all the arguments was a combination of knee--jerk cynicism and world-weary realism, depending on how you want to look at it. But amid all that, a sense of futility, not lack of money, seemed to be making us reluctant to get involved.
"Politics? That's for President Scholars," said Tim, digging into his hazelnut cake and asking us if he thought the cafe business would be a lucrative one to get into. He said he would rather bump up his back account by starting his own business and making money without the attached hassles of public office.
A 28-year-old engineer with a history of average grades, he once harboured thoughts of politics but now feels it belongs to an exclusive club of straight-As-since-Primary-1 people. He feels he is not wanted by the system. Whatever kinks there are in the system are someone else's problem. After all, he is not worthy.
He is not alone either. Wenhua, a 27-year-old account manager, recognises that younger leaders are needed to take over running the country eventually. He does not know who will be among that group -- only that he will not be part of it.
"I'll leave it to those who are more intelligent, more suitable," said Wenhua, who turned down recently a highly paid job in China to stay here and help build up a small events management company with two friends. "I'm not qualified."
So much for hooking in entrepreneurs of the future.
"If I ever go into politics, it wouldn't be for the money, nor for the power, but for the ideals -- I'd do it if I were sure I could change people's lives for the better," said a 30-year-old Cambridge-trained doctor.
"But then, I'm not sure how much of an impact I'd have -- the system is still rather autocratic."
Ruiling, a 25-year-old magazine writer, said she once wanted to be the first female Prime Minister of Singapore.
"But as I grew up," she said, "I realised how ridiculous that was. The game here is the politics of rigid same-ness. I can make more of a difference doing my volunteer work. Why butt your head against the wall, against a group of people who think they're always right, who can't tolerate difference?"
Wenhua dug into his dessert. "Really, why get involved? I mean, the country is being run smoothly -- there's no need for me to do much. Maybe if there was a disaster, or if I became extremely unhappy with the way things are going, then I'd do something."
Matt, who had until now, been quietly sipping his instant cappucino, said: "But listen guys, public service is taking action without wanting to know what's in it for you. If you expect rewards, then it is not service, it is hired help.
"I want to represent people so they feel they belong here. Increasing politicans' pay will draw in people who are more interested in the money than the service -- financial incentives would have shortlived effects."
We had to admit, he had a point. Maybe we would get involved later, some of us said: After we take care of our careers, have families, establish ourselves. No one else was particularly anxious to jeopardise his or her fledgling career to fight for change that might not happen.
Still, armchair criticism and sideline spectatoring is just too easy and comfortable. We can sit around complaining about what people who are older than us are doing, but neither change nor progress will come from that.
We could wait for someone else to stick his neck out and take action. But that knight in shining armour might not show up because he would be too busy running his chain of property development companies in the region.
Or we could all wait for a disaster before we take action. But by then, we could find ourselves without a country to act for. By the way, I think I will have the Riesling now, thanks.