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.