15/10

so i failed the blog fast and this is how we ended up in an australian chinese restaurant on my bill.  to my right, pudge: the only white person in the room.  from the way she talks about it, i assume this never happened to her in georgia.  to my far left, beaves, the asian in residence, acronym'd AIR, as in "headed".    yuk yuk.

in my seat is me and i, of course, have eaten too much chinese food.  i have not once eaten chinese food and not felt full afterwards.  chinese proverbs tell you to eat until your 8/10 full.  kiss my butt, china, you know that's impossible with the food you put out.  or, at least, the food your other-countried selves put out.  

this is going to sound ignorant of me (surprise), but i find chinese culture so completely alien that when i hear them speak to each other i never assume they're saying anything completely banal like "oh, susie's still inside picking up the check, she'll be out in a minute."   i always assume they're unveiling the secrets of the universe in terms only they can understand, like "oh, susie remains hidden in the jade temple, awaiting the fire from the dragon sky.  tonight the seven suns will rise in the water mountain, and all shall rule where none shall live."  y'know, something like that.

pudge and beaves stare at me.  "you ARE ignorant," they tell me with their eyes.

yes, yes i am.  i'm also 11/10 full.  china's full, too.  of rubbish (that's non-american english for 'trash'.  rubbish.  it's on all the trash cans here.  i look at those trash cans and i think instead of putting horrible movies in there, not actual trash.  'ever after'? rubbish.  throw it in the can.  done and done).

when we're 15/10 full, i grab the check.  the cashier has an australian accent.  he's chinese.  i'm weirded out.  i'm ignorant.  

i exit and it hits me. "no fortune cookies," i say to jeanne and mel. 

"yeah, that's an american chinese food thing" they say.

hi, i'm walter, and i'm a dumb american.

hi walter.