After work, I took the boy and his cousin Sasha for some Chinese eats. Everypony knows that Chinese eats in the northeast are generally awful, but cousin Sasha said that even the worst Chinese eats in the northeast are far superior to the crap they call “Chinese” eats in England, where she lives.

Since busy daddy doesn’t particularly care for Chinese eats, we rarely eat the stuff, so I sorta had to rack my brain to think of someplace to eat the Food of Our People. We ended up at a random Hunan joint on the outskirts of Uppityville. Apparently it was Old People Night at the restaurant because the place was crawling with the olds. Like, I’m pretty sure the average age of the diners was north of 75 years old. Plus everypony was white—save for the waiters and us.

I dunno why, but the crazy old broad sitting in the booth next to ours was talking non-stop, like, really loudly. The entire restaurant pretty much heard her entire life story, which included getting “screwed” by the “dirty Mexicans” working on her house renovations, as well as the fact that her underwears were running up her buttcrack. Her dinnermate, who I can only assume was her beleaguered husband, listened quietly and barely said three words.

Our food was awight, but the best part of our meal was the post-dinner oranges and the fortune cookies. Cousins Sasha’s fortune said, “An angry man opens his nouth and shuts up his eyes.” Even though the obnoxious old hag seated next to us made me want to vomit, I kept my nouth (and my mouth) shut.

Protip: if a Chinese restaurant is patronized entirely by the Whitey McWhiterson crowd, and nary a Chinese person, turn right around and go someplace else.

  1. pamilya said: Did everything taste like orange chicken and broccoli beef? I’m sure it did.
  2. prettyprettypollen said: In bed lol
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