Wednesday, 28 November 2012

My Food Goes Down the Murphy Drain

Tonight I went to a cute European style restaurant here in Chaiyi with some of the "practice hotel's" occupants. While everyone else ordered delectable pastas and beef sauteed in wine sauce, I decided to try out the Kung Pao Chicken. Having eaten some chicken rice an hour or so beforehand, I wasn't particularly hungry but I figured that I could get it packed up and taken home (an easy feat in Korea). So while I'm picking away at my food with my mouth running a mile a minute discussing the differences between the education systems in Canada and the USA, everyone is getting their food packed up. So finally, the waitress comes back to the table where I've neatly arranged my side of ride in my barely-touched bowl and I make a motion to wrap it up and give her a positive response (Duay) to her question (I'm assuming that she was asking me a question). Well we sit and sit for about five minutes waiting for her return and peering around the table to see what on earth could be taking so long because half the restaurant's occupants (us)are about to leave and the other table seems to be quite content. We make a few cracks about how they probably didn't think that I wanted my food and they're probably chowing down on it in the back or have accidentally thrown it out but I start to get a little concerned about my food's whereabouts. Finally, we motioned to her to come back to the table and attempted to ask about my food and she made the universal "ooooh" sound and scurried off to the back room. Once again we start in about how they've probably thrown it out and are scraping it off the top of the trash and throwing it into a box just to please the crazy foreigner but as I'm laughing hysterically, I realize that my chances of getting my food back are waning as the seconds pass by. I couldn't even look her in the face when she returned to the table to quickly us that my food had indeed been thrown into the pit of no return. Only me! Everyone else had gotten their food wrapped up with no problems. Why on earth would she have assumed that I wanted my food taken away and discarded? I can only assume that as she was pulling my plate away she had been asking if I was fully finished with my food and I had stupidly answered with the only word I deemed suitable for the situation being played out as I perceived it...."correct, correct" or rather "Duay, Duay". My one word of chinese sealed my food's fate. Into the trash it went. My tasty and super pricey (by taiwanese standards) Kung Pao Chicken. I'm seriously considering taking a vow of Chinese silence and reverting back to the ignorant foreigner content to use monkey language and nothing else. It seems to have worked so far....especially at the tea stands....but that's another story.... Here's to you Murphy!!! You got me again!

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