Monday, February 23, 2015

I Not Nice


I  have been sick for what seems like forever. It is almost over – almost. I started this blog post 2 weeks ago and just couldn’t finish it because of my affliction. If you get a cold from reading this because of cross contamination of germs, my humblest apologies. On to my story...

All this talking about restaurants the last couple of blogs, brought to mind another incident that happened to me – in another restaurant – in this town (a.k.a. Stupid Town) a year or so ago. Today, I repeated a phrase that now lives in the minds of my family’s vocabulary and is repeated constantly. I said that phrase today to my boss. “You not nice.” She had no idea what I was talking about because I had forgotten that she had not been working with me on my floor when this happened. She wanted an explanation.

We used to have a Japanese steak house in one of our strip malls. We are too small of a town to actually have a mall mall, so we have several mini versions full of stores lined up like jail cells with an overabundance of parking spaces in front of them. The parking lots are so huge in fact, that at these strip establishments most have restaurants sitting in random areas in this vast expanse – sometimes TWO or THREE restaurants and a bank – because the parking lot is WAY too big for what stores are there. Maybe our village idiots’ city government thinks that it is strategic planning on their part. I mean who wouldn’t want to buy clothing, pet supplies, workout clothes, eyeglasses, see a movie, buy some jewelry, and then have some lunch all without moving their car? It is genius (or so they believe)! 

So at one of these shopoterias, that services your beauty needs, your nail needs, your rental furniture needs, your health food needs and your grocery needs, there was a wonderful Japanese restaurant. They had curry that would make any curry lover want to high five a stranger even if they had leprosy. It was just that good.

I ate many much portions of this curry. Often and as much as I could hold because I knew good food in this town was a FLUKE and destined to be destroyed. This town is FULL of people that think our pseudo Chinese, Italian, and Mexican are “simply delicious.” I think they are nuts. I have had good servings of all those, but there is none of it in this town!

Anyway, back to my story. One day I was going to Publix (where shopping is a pleasure) to pick up something and since the Japanese restaurant was in the strip mail with Publix, I called in an order. I got my groceries, put them in the car and walked over to my food pleasure palace. I grabbed the door handle – locked. I peered inside – lights out. Open sign – not flashing. I peer inside again – I see no one and no movement. I test the door again – still locked.

I go back to work empty handed.

Two hours later I get a call on my cell. I don’t usually answer unknown callers, but today I was bored I guess – and hungry – so I answered.

Let me pause to say this. I am in no way a racist. I do not mean to make fun of how any race, religion, creed, sexual orientation, or alien invaders move, talk or speak – BUT – if I don’t tell my wonderful readers in the speak that this man talked to me – it just isn’t funny…and I like funny.

Me:                     Hello?

Asian Man:       Herro? Is Sarah? (Sarah is my pseudonym given when placing a name on a  food order or a wait list because NO ONE can spell my name)

Me:                      Yes.

Asian Man:        Why you no come pick up order?

Me:                      I did try to pick it up but your restaurant was closed.

Asian Man:         Not closed! I not closed!

Me:                      Well, I checked the door and looked inside, but the door was locked and the lights were off.

Asian Man:         I wait inside! I there! Why you no knock?

Me:                      Well, since the door was locked and the lights were out, I didn’t see a reason to knock.

Asian Man:         I wait for you! You come pick up now! I sit afternoon waiting.

Me:                      I am sorry, I am back at work and I can’t come back.

Asian Man:        You come back now! You no waste my food!

Me:                      I can’t. I am sorry.

Asian Man:         You waste my food! I no make money! I go broke! Your fault! YOU NOT NICE!

I hung up on that last tirade. Maybe I did make him go broke because I never went back to that restaurant. I guess no one went back much because the restaurant closed about a month later.

I guess not only “You not nice,” but everyone in town “They not nice.”

I miss that curry…

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