道

This evening, as i revisited my favorite downtown Chinese restaurant, this young group of four sat at the table to my right just several minutes before i wanted to bail.

The relatively loud guy who sat closest to me already knew what he wanted and ordered without having to review the menu. I deemed it an attempt to demonstrate his familiarity with the joint implying frequent patronage, a transparent attempt to impress anyone within earshot. Especially me, of course. Narcissism: it takes one to know one.

The neo-hippie chick and her beau, however, took longer. She finally decided on vegetarian fried rice when the waiter came back a second time. Really? After 5 minutes of perusing the literature cover to cover?

"Cuz i'm vegetarian," she added, feeling obliged to explain to the waiter.

I rolled my eyes inside my head. Duh! Was an explanation warranted? What kind of a carnivore would opt for vegetarian when s/he can have MEAT?!!

And to top it off, when the fried wontons came (an appetizer to share), she asked the server what they were fried in.

The poor Chinese dude didn't quite catch on.

"I mean what kind of oil was used?" Elaborated la Boheme. "Was it lard? Peanut oil?"

I rolled my eyes further back in my head. Seriously, if this is such an issue, don't eat out.

My late Buddhist grandma is conjured. She used to insist in asking if lard was used.

20 years ago in Asia every server would respond indignantly, "Ma'am, no one uses lard anymore."

Apparently lard is alive and well in America. God bless the U.S. of A.!


Commentary: Fine. Maybe i'm not as tolerant as i thought.