Hot & sour

So here's the scene--

Dinner with friends at a nice little Chinese restaurant. Simple, unassuming little place, not one of those posh-looking establishments that try to drill it in that, "Yes, we're Chinese! The food is Chinese, the decor is Chinese, the cooks are Chinese, the waiters are Chinese, the menus are in Chinese, and the only thing not Chinese here is you-- Oh sorry, friend, you are Chinese! Ni hao?"

So there we are, enjoying our meal and our pearl teas (yeah, baby!), each secretly jealous of the person beside who seems to have ordered a tastier dish. In walks this Irish couple and a girl we assume is their daughter. The man is just not quite right or something, and apparently is quite inebriated. He and his wife start arguing about something or other and the argument gets quite heated. And it's all I can do to try and make out what they're saying, so strong are their accents. If you ever get the chance, try and listen to a drunk Irishman say the word "F---". To quote Robin Williams, it's quite a linguistic adventure since you can't even really understand them if they're sober.

Anyhoo, the lady gets pissed off and throws a bowl of steaming soup at him. Piping hot liquid flies in all directions, and whaddya know! Lucky me, I manage to catch a good portion of it with the back of my shirt and my leather jacket.

Yeah! High-five!

The guy goes quite nuts at this point and makes like a pro-wrestler, ripping his shirt apart, complete with buttons popping off. Intimidation, maybe? Or it could just be that being scalded with soup doesn't agree with him. So he yells at his wife unintelligibly (at least, to me) and storms out. Then comes back in. Then storms out again, still with his tirade. And all the while the little Chinese manager lady is squawking at them, "Excuse me! Excuse me!" in as menacing a manner as she can manage, essentially telling them to get the f--- out. (She didn't use those exact words, of course, but it would've been super comical if she had.)

So they eventually leave, but not before the manager calls the cops on them. And the aftermath? I think Mr. and Mrs. Domestic-Violence might be prosecuted for the disturbance. As for me, I'm left with a ruined white shirt and a leather jacket in need of a good dry-cleaning.

Ah, I'm loving it here more and more.

By Chester with 4 comments