Forgive Me Miss Saigon

my boss asked if i’d go try panda express with her since i’m the only person she knows who will eat that kind of stuff. okay.

off to the mall food court we went. as we waited in line, i explained what to do. decide on a side, two to three entrees but be sure to say it was to go. the sides of the box provide additional space for food versus a flat paper plate. the line was moving slowly due to the restocking of orange chicken. so my boss decided to go to the vietnamese restaurant next door which had its own sitting area.

i didn’t see the harm since asians were eating there. an indicator of a good ethnic restaurant is seeing patrons of that ethnicity eat there (i go to panda express the line triples behind me). the waitress was nice enough but her accent was off. the utensils only added to my suspicion. spoon and fork for a rice plate. then i bit into my fried chicken wing and knew why. it tasted like jollibees. this vietnamese restaurant was run by filipinos. the waitress, the spoon, the lumpia-sized imperial roll i should have realized nobody in there was vietnamese.

growing up near daly city aka little manilla and eating banh mis from little paris you would think i would be able to tell the difference. i had mistaken filipinos for vietnamese. apparently, i now think all asians look the same.

while my asian side turns away in disgust my jewish side is having a field day.

“i was going to buy this cute noah’s ark stand as a christmas gift for my friend but it’s really a menorah”. – me.