Chinese Food... Another Bad Experience

Okay, so let me just say that this is not what I originally wanted it to be. The blog I was preparing was much longer, and was the long awaited "But Wait!, There's More!" piece. But, I have decided against writing that today. I was all prepared, but I have decided to do something completely different today. Just as I was logging onto Blogger, I was thinking of the trip that I just took. I went with a few friends... I won't bore you with the details. I had fun though. For the most part, anyway. There was one downfall - the food. Sure, there were times where I came close to believing that heaven was actually food, and not *pointing to sky* up there. But there were also some really BAD times when I considered writing down the pros and cons of eating disorders, and if I had, the "Pro" side would have been MUCH longer than the "Con" side. Let me give you an example.

We stopped in the state of New York to have lunch. I don't remember what town it was in that we stopped, but if I did, I wouldn't mention it... with as bad as this place was, I wouldn't want to end up giving a whole town a bad name. We went to a "chinese" restaurant... I say it in quotes because seriously, have you ever had real chinese food? It does NOT taste the same as the stuff in Chinatown. Real chinese food is really good, whereas the faux chinese restaurants kind of... you know what? Never mind. We'll get to that in a bit! I like to call it "American-Chinese Food", since it's not really REAL chinese food.

Anyway, we get to the place and stand in line at the register, where the hostess seats you. It was really pretty, it had a very nice decor. Chandeliers, cherry blossoms, the works. It looked quite promising!......... and then we were shown our table. The table I sat at had duct tape strapped across the top of it. Old, silver duct tape that was worn down, and had clear packing tape placed over it, to double-up for it. You could see through the duct tape and see down to the hole in the table. After I was seated (on a vinyl chair which also had duct tape on it, placed right over the seat, and another on the top of the chair, right about where you would rest your shoulders), I ran my hand under the table. After running into several gum wad mine fields (WHY do people find in necessary to stick their used chewing gum under the table??) I found the hole, as wide as my palm. Splinters were sticking out, and the wood fell easily apart, showing that it was rotting. Duct tape ran along the table's leg and went up to attach to the bottom of the tabletop. That was the first of many turn offs. Who wants to eat at a duct tape table?

I sat and arranged my silverware, folding the napkin properly and placing the silverware in the proper spot. As I did so, my friend Adam called my name softly in a horror-struck voice. I looked up to see him staring at his spoon, shock spread across his face. It was a large spoon that he held, not a teaspoon, nor a tablespoon, but a small serving spoon. "Wow, that's a big spoon," I commented. "I didn't know they served snow shovels with dinner now... interesting".
"No," he replied, turning the spoon a little so that I could view it better. "That". I looked where his finger was pointing, and to my horror, I saw just as he did. There clinging to the spoon was the most disgusting gunk I had ever seen. It looked like dried vomit, I tell no lie. It was beige and black with chunky bits in it, all crusted and dried on the edge of the spoon. It was revolting. I glanced back at his face, repulsed. "I guess 'I'm having soup' is out," he joked.

It was a buffet that we went to, so we got up and went to get our food. I left the table quickly, as you can imagine. The food, sadly, made the hole in the table seem fine, the filth on the spoon seem quite normal. Who knows, maybe it was at that restaurant. I discovered a knife up at the buffet that was just like the spoon, except normal size. *Shaking head* The food had three degrees - Ew, Double Ew, and flat-out disgusting. "Ew" would be what dessert looked like, the jello looked frozen, the bread-like goodies were soggy, the fortune cookies looked greasy. "Double Ew" would be what the noodles were, they looked so limp, like dead worms. "Flat out disgusting" is what the meat was. Some would say "Yeah, if you could call it meat"... but trust me, it was meat. The question was, what TYPE of meat was it? One of the people in my group brought back a piece of "teriyaki", of which I swear looked like a rat. Another brought back baby squid; I assume that they were steamed or something... it looked like a shrunken octopus. It was silver, and its eyes were still in, you ate it whole. The person who tried it - who has what I would call an "iron stomach" came to the gag point. It was appalling.

The thing that really did it for me though was when I passed by the private dining room - you know, the place where they hold dinner conferences or birthday parties? A place where people EAT, rest their hands, etc. I discovered, to my terror, four of the women who worked there, leaning across one of the dining tables, cutting up a dead animal. I don't know WHAT animal it was, but it was an animal... and there was blood EVERYWHERE. Blood on their clothes, blood on the table, blood on the floor.......... I'm sorry, but aren't they supposed to have rooms OUT IN THE BACK for them to do that? Not where people actually DINE? Not that you can call it dining, but still....... horrible.

I know that this story is pointless, and that there were much OTHER things to blog about... but I just can't help talking about it today. This blog is entitled "Life According to Me", right? Well, life according to me is this - weird. It definitely has its ups - getting a promotion, winning the lottery, etc.... but it definitely has its downs as well, and I am going to say that this restaurant falls somewhere between seeing a litter of kittens run over, and being forced to marry Richard Simmons. Don't judge the book by its cover - and don't judge the restaurant by its fancy decor. Bad things happen people......... bad things happen.