This Is Not an Exit

Hello my fellow ham-n-eggers! Yes, it's a new entry, which could only mean that I decided to put aside my inhibitions about George (see the previous blog post for our exciting encounter!) and hit up lunch at the Toke.

Boy-oh-boy, is it a scorcher out there today! In fact, it's so hot that I had to order the spicy teriyaki just to cool down! But that's beside the point -- let me get to the story at hand...

I could tell George was a little down today, and it was easy to see why: the line at LeeAnn Chin's made it out to look like a celebrity was serving the food, or something! It was enormous! Meanwhile, at Little Tokyo they were standing there, outstretched arms holding meager samples on a toothpick, trying anything they might just to steal a customer or two. I, for one, was no fool and made a bee-line right to the Toke. George's eyes lit up as soon as I arrived, eyeing me with the wonder befitting a god, or savior, or both!

My order was placed and paid for with no event...until I sat down. I'll tell you, just when I thought it was hot enough outside, things were about to get a little hotter indoors! As I sat enjoying another meal, a young, hard-bodied woman approached me. She was wearing a charcoal two-button Alex Lane blazer over a modest white stretch poplin banded blouse from BCBGeneration and a pair of dark-wash denim jeans from Juicy Couture. I could smell her perfume, J'Adore, by Dior, as she neared and took a seat across from me at the table, and it had me beside myself. Just as I began to grasp the situation, the following conversation occurred:

Her: "Where'd you get that food?"
Me: "Over there, at Little Tokyo."
Her: "Have any coke?"
Me: "Yeah, it's cherry though."
Her: "No...you know what I mean."

Just then, she pulled on a chrome chain around her neck and presented a small, silver spoon attached at the end. I smiled reluctantly.

Her: "Figure it out?"
Me: "I-uh-I've got to return some videotapes..."

I picked up my tray, my food half-finished, and darted out of the food court. As I drove back to work, I found I couldn't get my mind off of the well-dressed mysterious woman. What about my appearance drove her to think I was entangled in drugs? Was it my two-button gray polo from Gap? My medium-wash straight-leg denim jeans from Levis? I began to fantasize about setting a corkscrew to both her eyes and twisting them out, listening to the sickening pop as they loosen from their sockets and cover me in yellow pus and blackish-purple blood.

This will be my last blog for two weeks, so take care all and if you're going to dine on asian cuisine, make sure to ask them if their food is MSG-free!

The Big Apple Trip that Shall Never Be

Hello again, my dears. I'll tell you what -- just when you think you know somebody, I mean REALLY know somebody, they always seem to throw you a nasty curveball. Of course, I'd be referring to George, who I thought only had one kind of pitch in his arsenal (that being, of course, his straight-laced, no-nonsense fastball). Ahead of me in line today, a young lady had asked for a side of rice. Now usually this is a pretty standard order for a side dish; however, on this particular order, this woman had the audacity to ask for a half order of white rice, and a half order of fried! Who the blazes does she think she is? I thought to myself, and I was sure George (maybe with a particular four-letter word in place of 'blazes') was thinking the same thing...

EXCEPT HE WASN'T!!!

George simply stood by and watched his employee dish up a half order of each, the spoon visibly shaking in her hand. Apparently she knew that, at any moment, George could snap and her whole day would be ruined. This wasn't, after all, the first time I'd seen George send one of his underlings to the back in a flood of tears. This time, however, George took the plate of rice, smiling, and dished up the woman's desired entrees. I was shocked! I wanted to ask the lady serving the rice if someone had replaced George with a cyborg or some other artificially intelligent android. Instead, I just asked for fried rice, deciding not to tempt those very fine fibers of fate by asking for a half-order of each...

At the end of the line, as George was ringing me up, I decided to bring up his favorite subject. 'It's almost a crime to be inside today!' I said, smiling. George smiled back and agreed whole-heartedly.

Then, surprisingly, he continued, 'Maybe go to baseball game today--oh no, no baseball here this week, I think, right?'

'That's right,' I said. Deciding not to stray too far, I said 'It would be the perfect week for one, though.' George smiled, and clearly wasn't going to respond. Seeing that my credit card was still waiting to be approved, I thought that I'd better break the silence before it got too out of hand. 'Did you see the game yesterday? Twins finally pulled one off on those darn Yankees!'

Just then, it seemed as if I had awoken some dark-hearted daemon resting inside George's soul. 'I'm Yankee fan,' he said, 'I'm from New York.'

I could have said a million things just then to ease the tension, but I went with my gut and just said 'Oh...'

'I'm going back next weekend,' he said. 'But I'm going alone. Nobody to go with.'

My credit card slip slid out from the machine's mouth. I was happy to take it and move on with my meal, but instead I made the mistake of looking up into George's puppy-dog eyes. After a monumental back-and-forth in my mind, weighing the decision of whether or not a trip to the City that Never Sleeps with George would be a good idea, he made up my mind for me and said, 'That okay. I like to fly alone.'

And that was that. He handed me my receipt, bid me a good day, and started pouring a drink for the next customer. I stood dazed. In a matter of a few seconds, I had gone from a loyal customer, to a possible confidante on a cross-country trip with a man that manages a fast food restaurant, to being cast aside like an unwanted kitten. I understood his decision, but still, it hurt. It hurt a lot.

Will I ever recover to make another trek to the Toke? Admittedly, right now I cannot answer that. I guess you'll just have to wait and see if there's a shiny new blog entry here next week...

(CLIFFHANGER!!!)

Sukiyaki? Suki-yucky!

Back for more, are you? Well, that's good to hear! I'd hate to know I was writing to a brick wall...

Today's visit to the Toke was especially exciting for me. For one, I was quite hungry after an less-than-filling breakfast. And, although it'd only been my customary week between visits, I felt like it had been an eternity since my last Little Tokyo meal. I couldn't really pinpoint why; I hadn't been on any vacations or encountered any life-altering situations. Maybe it was just that I hungered a little more than usual for some oil-drenched meat.

Once again, I decided to take advantage of the two-entree meal for $5.99. I ordered the teriyaki chicken, my usual, simply because when you're hungry, it's best not take too many risks. Then, just as my mouth opened to form the words for my second-favorite option (sesame chicken), I stopped myself cold. I lifted my eyes to meet George's, who was looking back at me, staring blankly.

'I'm tired of the same thing,' I said, which more than likely came as a shock to George, who had his hand on the sesame chicken spoon. 'What would you suggest?'

George looked up in thought, then quickly suggested the sukiyaki beef. I'm not sure if he actually did lapse into a moment of deep wonder, trying to weigh the many options, or if he just picked the dish because it was right next to the sesame chicken and he was too lazy to move from his current position.

'What the heck,' I said, 'why not? Give me the sukiyaki beef!'

Since he was busy dishing me up, George hadn't had a chance to pour me a soda. I thought maybe today I'd eschew the drink and buy an egg roll instead (in case I was dissatisfied with the beef). I ordered the egg roll and as I unfolded my wallet to get my debit card, I heard the distinctive sound of soda pouring from a fountain. Shit...foiled again!

We b.s.-ed about the weather (George offered the astute observation that April weather had been like May and vice versa -- hadn't heard that one before, Georgie-boy!) and then I was off to my seat. I coated my tongue with the succulent flavors of my teriyaki chicken and yakisoba noodles before decided to dive in to the beef. Hoping for the best, yet expecting the worst, I stuffed large chunks of beef and green pepper, dripping with sauce, into my mouth and began chewing. It was only a few moments before my taste buds rejected this new flavor...what a disappointment! Of course, anywhere else, this entree would have been divine -- but Little Tokyo? What a shame.

I was still able to leave with my belly full -- thank goodness I opted for the egg roll on the side! As I left, I passed by a group of screaming kids. I tossed a nickel on the floor and watched them scramble to it like a pack of retarded wolves.

The Cream Cheese Crisis

Good afternoon, my faithful fanciers of fine foods! I've just returned from another trip to Little Tokyo, and although the food was once again fulfilling (and still at a premium price of $5.99 for two entrees!), the trip itself left something to be desired. I'm not sure if George had a lot on his mind or what, and so all we really shared were a few half-hearted smiles and some simple pleasantries!

In lieu of a brand new entry to add to my chronicles, I've decided to dig deep into the archives to pull out another one of my favorite Little Tokyo stories. This one occurred some time ago, while still in the darkest days of winter...some time around Christmas, I'd guess. What started out as an average trip to the Toke turned into a crisis of Charlie Chaplin proportions!

I'd completed my meal a little early that day, so I decided to just sit and take in the entire atmosphere of the Eden Prairie Center's food court. I'd been regularly visiting every Monday for a few months by this point, but I'd still not really taken the time to admire what the court had to offer. Beautiful green shrubbery; ornate, classic pillars; striking wildlife tableaus on the tabletops. I felt as if I were in the dream of a notable 18th century artisan!

Just as I was in the midst of my daydreaming, I was jarred by a polite, albeit uncouth, individual, wearing a worn-out turquoise sweater beneath an old Charlotte Hornets Columbia coat. His facial hair was scraggly at best, and his eyes queerly looked out in two different directions. He was quite the unsavory person, and that's the nice way of describing him. Like I said, however, he was polite, and he smiled as he approached me and asked, 'Excuse me, mister, I-uh-I was only wondering if you might have some change? I'm just looking for something to eat. It's cold outside and I've got a long way to walk.'

Although I've never had to survive alone on the streets and I've never had to humble myself enough to ask others for the money they worked to earn, I was not a stranger to his situation. Here was a man in need, a man that many of us could relate to at one point or another in our own lives. However, asking others for their money is usually the last refuge of anyone with any ounce of dignity left, and apparently he had let go of those last vestiges.

I told him the unfortunate news that I only carried plastic, and didn't have any cash or change on me.

'That's okay, mister...' he said, and began to walk away, sulking.

Before long, I decided to oblige, thinking the good karma might come in handy later on down the line. I stopped him and said, 'I can get you something, just stay here.'

The man's eyes lit up. He smiled a brown-toothed grin and thanked me profusely, still thanking me as I walked back to the Little Tokyo counter. George wasn't there that day, but the women who were looked at me as if I'd jumped out from behind a couch and surprised them. I looked through the menu, then remembering I only made a 5-figure salary, decided to just go with the cream cheese won-tons. I know it wasn't much, but even a little karma is better than none.

'I'm still a little hungry,' I said, 'can I have a couple cream cheese won-tons to-go?'

The girls smiled pleasantly, as they always do, and bagged up three won-tons. I thanked them for the second time that day as I retreated with the man's dinner. Looking at my watch, I realized it was almost time to make my trek back to work, so I started planning my escape. When I returned to the table where I'd met the man, however, he was nowhere in sight. I gave the court a few looks, once again admiring the plant life and the beautiful columns (which I still can't figure out whether they're Doric or Corinthian), and after a careful perusal I found myself unable to locate the old man.

I was still a little hungry, as I'd only gotten the 1-entree meal without an egg roll for some inane reason, so I decided that since I'd already paid for the won-tons, I probably shouldn't let them go to waste...

I was half-way through my second won-ton when I heard the familiar voice behind me...'Mister, excuse me mister, did you get any for me?'

The week had only just begun, and I was now six cream cheese won-tons in the hole.