There is a little local family owned Chinese restaurant that we order dinner from on occasion – This restaurant is a funny little place.
Mom speaks very little English and she reminds me of the “Soup Nazi,” I’ve never met Dad, but the two boys crack me up.
I have been watching for years the younger son riding his bike to and from home to the restaurant, the older boy I never really met until recently. Turns out, they go to school with my two older boys.
Anyway…little off track…you very rarely see anyone eating in the restaurant, but there are always people coming in and out picking up orders – No Delivery for You! – in fact I really had no idea how many people came in and out….until….
I invited my Mom and Dad over for dinner on Saturday night, of course normally I am a mouch and head over to Mom and Dad’s with the family for dinner – but, this weekend I thought I should treat them. I was so tired though that I opted to order dinner from our local place. I placed the order, thankfully one of the boys answered the phone to take the order, because they are easier to understand on the phone, I gave my name…”****” and was told it would be ready to pick up in about 15-20 minutes.
Mom waited in the car while I went it to pick it up…the younger boy asked my name, I told him and he started to hand me a bag naming off what was in it.
“Huh? That’s not what I ordered.” This poor boy, I think he must be 14, got the sickest look on his face.
“Your name is ****?”
“Yes, but that is not my order.” The other boy walks out and asks what is wrong…..
“There were two ****’s, I gave the other lady the wrong order!!”
There was a fury of phone calling and they reached the other **** and she agreed to bring my food back so that she could get her food.
The mother came out during all this and there was a lot of harsh words and finger shaking that I could not understand, but I got the jist of it.
After the food finally arrive (HA – I got a delivery!) the older boy asked me about my oldest son, but he asked if I was his sister…..can I tell you that young man got some extra brownie points.
So – the whole point of this post…the other night after working and not feeling good, we ordered from the same place again, rather than my first name, I gave my last! I went to pick it up and after consuming mass quantities of sodium with a little rice, we opened up our fortune cookies.
“Made in the USA”
Yes, that was our fortune cookie, “Made in the USA.” We laughed so hard, I gotta tell you I was happy to know that our cookie was made in the USA, I had not ever given it much thought. I was especially happy that our DINNER was made in the USA. There really is so little that seems to be made in the United States anymore, we have become a service industry nation…we serve. Whether it is local diners, pest control or retail stores – we serve. We build so very little now…we make fortune cookie though!
Live, Laugh, Love ~
Vanilla Mama
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