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We were high and drunk and were anticipating a night of rampant snogging (or at least I was) and we stumbled into the little Cantonese restaurant down the street from my apartment. They knew me there, as this clearly had happened before, and so the smile from the waiter was (I think) genuine, knowing I have a tough time carrying decimals in the tip when I am high, often leaving a gratutity the size of tuition at Beijing University.
"What you have?"
"I want whatever you had tonight" was my response, which I feel is an excellent comment in bistro, or at a vegetarian restaurant when you smell a carnivourous waiter, however here I was in uncharted waters.
"Oh, you no like"
"How do you know? What did you have?"
"Pepper fish balls"
Which were, it goes without saying, excellent, instantly making Noodly Dookie my all time favorite restaurant, warranting thrice weekly visits in varying states of sobriety. I stopped eating off the menu, ingesting unrecognizable entrees of such varied textures and heat that my mouth became acustomed to little else (an entirely different matter).
One winter afternoon I walked in alone, and the waiter grinned his gap toothed smile and said "For you, for you very special"
"What"
"Fresh frog legs"
"How fresh"
"10 minutes ago"
"Bullshit"
So I was lead by an overly eager Chinese man into a dirty back room where a larger white plastic bucket was produced. There was a sloshing and motion to it, no distinct center of gravity, and the lid was opened slowly. Revealing 20 pairs of little eyes blinking at me.
Date Written: July 21, 2004
Author: Bogedita
Average Vote: 0