Sunday, November 29, 2009

East To Heathens

The last thing I want to do right now is go back to New York and the highly irritating world I inhabit there. The first thing I'm doing tomorrow is going back to New York and the highly irritating world I inhabit there.

So, Day 7 was also pretty shitty but it's also Day 1 of no longer counting days after or until something. Buddha or Yoda or some other squat fat fellow must have a saying. "Only now matters." I mean, even the most enlightened yogis know that's not entirely true if you are also trying to function normally in the world. But it's nice to have those moments when you make only now matter. It's when I'm like, "Oo, take that, world. I stopped everything but now. I see you as you really are. I've won!" Enlightenment is all about winning.

Squirrels are so cute. I adore fat, fuzzy, stupid creatures. It even spilled over into my dating life.

Saturday, November 28, 2009

Seafood For Life

Today my mom, dad, brother and I went to dim sum at a very popular restaurant in town. It has been awhile since any of us have been there, since we were all surprised by how it had been remodeled into a cavernous yet unrepentantly gaudy Chinese banquet hall. Unfortunately their website doesn't have any pictures of the tacky new decor for your viewing pleasure.

Chinatown businesses in Houston are not infrequently robbed by people who know that the owners like to keep everything in cash. (Don’t go getting any ideas there, Gunslinger.) This restaurant was no exception. A few years ago I’d heard that one of the owners, a woman named Nancy, was tragically shot and killed during a robbery.

Except that today my mom said that she overheard some of her friends saying that they’ve seen Nancy around.

"Nancy is alive and well," my mom surmised.

“Are you sure?” I said. “Have you actually seen her?”

“Gossip, gossip,” my brother Nick said.

“Must be,” my mom said. “My friends saw her.”

“Maybe they saw her ghost,” I said, always loving a good ghost story.

“I’m going to go ask for her,” my mom said as we were leaving the restaurant.

“Don’t tell them you just want to see if she’s dead or not,” I said.

Oh, my God! There was a gigantic lobster in one of the restaurant's eight fish tanks holding live but doomed seafood. This guy was the size and shape of a regulation football. Seriously. I don’t lie about this stuff.

My mom reported her findings as we were walking to the car.

“I asked them, hey, where is your boss Nancy?” she said. “They said she drove to the airport to pick up seafood.”

“Maybe that’s code for she’s dead,” Nick said.

“Then they asked why I wanted to see Nancy, and I said that I’m one of her friends,” my mom said.

“You’re such a good friend that you don’t even know if she’s alive or not,” I said.

“She’s alive,” my mom said, proud of her successful sleuthing.


Before today's post:
"I know you kids just like to make fun of your Asian parents and talk about us."
"I don't talk about you, mom. You never say anything funny."