So, we all decided to go eat Japanese food last night for a belated birthday dinner celebrating yours truly. If you've read any of my blog, you might have guessed that I love all things Japanese. Well, I love Bento Boxes and Japanese food...what fat girl doesn't?!
Except Sushi
I'd rather eat the raw flesh from my arm than put the raw flesh of a sea animal down my throat....yeah, yeah...it's a "delicacy" or whatever.
I get it, I get it.... I think the Japanese created it because it was easier than cooking with fire and pots and pans. Maybe they were out of logs for the fire? Maybe it had been raining? Maybe they didn't want to dirty up a nice clean kitchen....I know I've avoided cooking for that very reason many times. Maybe the gas company turned off their gas for not paying the bill?
I'd rather eat Kraft Macaroni and Cheese from a box, you know, WHERE FOOD IS SUPPOSED TO COME FROM. I don't know about you, but I like my food full of preservatives and chemicals...that is how God intended it to be ingested.
Anyway, the fourthling was intrigued by the swinging of knives and the fire pit for...oh, about 30 seconds....and then the nuclear meltdown began. He wanted his food like 20 minutes ago. I, of course, being the stellar Mom that I am, began scrambling to find anything to stuff into his mouth to stop the crying. Being ever prepared, I found absolutely no food in his diaper bag, but I did find 2 Matchbox Cars and a sock. Sock? Mouth? Tempting. But, no.
The Waitress came to our "grill" and started asking what we wanted to drink. I pleaded with her and the conversation went as follows:
Waitress: "What would you like to drink?"
Me: "I'll have a gallon jug of your Mt. Fuji Mai Tai." I continued, "Do you have any crackers or anything I can give this child that doesn't belong to me that is screaming at the top of his lungs?"
Waitress: (Laughing nervously) "No, we stopped ordering crackers months ago. Sorry!"
Me: (Getting desperate now) "You don't have anything? Bread, Noodles? Nothing? I'll take anything, seriously!"
Waitress: "No, I'm sorry...we don't have anything. Well, we have rice crackers, but they are really spicy."
The fourthling begins to up his game plan at this point and has reverted to the tried and true arching of the back and flailing of the arms and legs.
Me: "Oh, Do you have any fortune cookies? I'm desperate here!"
And this is where it gets good...
Waitress: (In her most condescending voice ever) "No, sweetie...that's CHINESE not JAPANESE."
Now, I am not an Asian Retard. I know that fortune cookies are a CHINESE tradition, but I also know that I have been to a Japanese restaurant that has handed out fortune cookies at the end of the meal.
Had I remembered my "Asian Culture" hat that night, I would have avoided this "faux pas", but I was desperate to stuff FOOD in the fourthlings mouth so that other people could enjoy their meal in peace. I didn't care where that food came from at that point in time: China, Japan, Guam, hell...I would have settled for Tajikistan.
Excuse e moi!
Or
Shitsurei shimasu!
Touche!
