D
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The sea was angry that day my friends!
This tale occurred a little while back. As some of you know I work in medicine when I'm not being kept in the server dungeon by
@I Wild Each It . I was working a job out of town. Things were going well, the pay was far higher than I expected, and I regularly treated myself to dinner out on the town, something I never do at home. So here I am on the way back home and decide to stop into the local Chinese Restaurant. Little did I know, this would come to be a decision that would haunt me the rest of my years.
Lads, I entered that temple of monosodium glutamate worship and was greeted by a uniquely attractive Asian lady. Unique in that she had a face...flat, like a frying pan, with her blouse unbuttoned just enough to tantalize, amazing almond eyes Dante might write about as he entered that last circle. She was peering right into my soul as she asked, "Booth or Table?".
I settled for the leatherette booth in the corner and tried not to perspire, my inner high school child taking over as she made small talk and took my overly thought out drink order -- unsweet tea. Its not cheap like water. It's not sugary like soda. That's what a hot asian girl would want me to order, right?
I thumbed through the menu, noting the Chinese calendar on the table. Nice! This place is authentic. Why wasn't I born a Dragon?
She came back so fast! "What would you like, sir?" Fuck...panic. I hadn't time to craft a 'good' order and I don't want to disappoint this minx with whom I have no chance.
"What do you like?", I asked to the probable owner's daughter. She suggested a heavily accented "R15". Though it could have been "L15" and I'm not sure to this day. It was of no matter because at this point gentleman, the siren was calling me towards the rocks and I should have long ago been strapped upon the mast.
6 foretelling minutes later I had "Lee's Special Chicken" served in front of me. She asked if I needed anything else? I couldn't think of a G rated answer, so I simply said 'No'. I went to work devouring the plate in front of me as I pondered how many of her family probably share this meal that one fat white guy is shoveling down his gullet.
When I was done, I pulled out the Amex hoping and wishing it to magically become a Black card instead of the prepaid blue version I qualified for Freshman year of college. I long ago threw away the free backpack I was given for the signing the application. She was not impressed and sent me on my way giving the next customer that same amazing smile.
I drove home, dreams of my own miss saigon serving plate after plate of that special chicken. I arrived home late, my wife already asleep in bed none the wiser of my momentary oriental fling. I went to sleep...
I awoke. Something was wrong. Very wrong. With the same panic our troops must have felt with the first shakes of the bombings at Pearl Harbor, my stomach swelled with force. Oh god, the gas pains. DAMN YOU LE(E)! I let slip a small squeak to relieve the contained pressure. I awoke a sleeping giant. That fart was a Banco, and I drew a Baccarat.
As if to punish me for abusing the labor of Lee's distant cousins, the Nike spandex shorts I was wearing were quickly filled with that "special" chicken. The VC had come up from the tunnels and it was a massacre. Because I had wisely/unwisely chosen to reject that racist fabric we call cotton, I realized quickly I had contained the outbreak. Similar to Catherine Zeta Jones in Entrapment, I made slow and steady acrobatic movements out of bed, to the door, and down the hall.
View: http://i.imgur.com/WEmYk7y.gifv
Not actually me
As I closed the bathroom door behind me, I took stock of the situation. Wife in bed. Ass covered in napalm. Alright, lets do this. Like an awesome suit up scene from a 1980's action flick, I disrobed, tossed my tainted undies in a trash bag, and showered.
I snuck back to bed, barely sleeping a wink for fear of another surprise assault. The next day we slept in. I got up to make my wife and I some lunch. We settle on picking up some burgers and fries. I was constipated for three days.
This tale occurred a little while back. As some of you know I work in medicine when I'm not being kept in the server dungeon by
@I Wild Each It . I was working a job out of town. Things were going well, the pay was far higher than I expected, and I regularly treated myself to dinner out on the town, something I never do at home. So here I am on the way back home and decide to stop into the local Chinese Restaurant. Little did I know, this would come to be a decision that would haunt me the rest of my years.Lads, I entered that temple of monosodium glutamate worship and was greeted by a uniquely attractive Asian lady. Unique in that she had a face...flat, like a frying pan, with her blouse unbuttoned just enough to tantalize, amazing almond eyes Dante might write about as he entered that last circle. She was peering right into my soul as she asked, "Booth or Table?".
I settled for the leatherette booth in the corner and tried not to perspire, my inner high school child taking over as she made small talk and took my overly thought out drink order -- unsweet tea. Its not cheap like water. It's not sugary like soda. That's what a hot asian girl would want me to order, right?
I thumbed through the menu, noting the Chinese calendar on the table. Nice! This place is authentic. Why wasn't I born a Dragon?
She came back so fast! "What would you like, sir?" Fuck...panic. I hadn't time to craft a 'good' order and I don't want to disappoint this minx with whom I have no chance.
"What do you like?", I asked to the probable owner's daughter. She suggested a heavily accented "R15". Though it could have been "L15" and I'm not sure to this day. It was of no matter because at this point gentleman, the siren was calling me towards the rocks and I should have long ago been strapped upon the mast.
6 foretelling minutes later I had "Lee's Special Chicken" served in front of me. She asked if I needed anything else? I couldn't think of a G rated answer, so I simply said 'No'. I went to work devouring the plate in front of me as I pondered how many of her family probably share this meal that one fat white guy is shoveling down his gullet.
When I was done, I pulled out the Amex hoping and wishing it to magically become a Black card instead of the prepaid blue version I qualified for Freshman year of college. I long ago threw away the free backpack I was given for the signing the application. She was not impressed and sent me on my way giving the next customer that same amazing smile.
I drove home, dreams of my own miss saigon serving plate after plate of that special chicken. I arrived home late, my wife already asleep in bed none the wiser of my momentary oriental fling. I went to sleep...
I awoke. Something was wrong. Very wrong. With the same panic our troops must have felt with the first shakes of the bombings at Pearl Harbor, my stomach swelled with force. Oh god, the gas pains. DAMN YOU LE(E)! I let slip a small squeak to relieve the contained pressure. I awoke a sleeping giant. That fart was a Banco, and I drew a Baccarat.
As if to punish me for abusing the labor of Lee's distant cousins, the Nike spandex shorts I was wearing were quickly filled with that "special" chicken. The VC had come up from the tunnels and it was a massacre. Because I had wisely/unwisely chosen to reject that racist fabric we call cotton, I realized quickly I had contained the outbreak. Similar to Catherine Zeta Jones in Entrapment, I made slow and steady acrobatic movements out of bed, to the door, and down the hall.
View: http://i.imgur.com/WEmYk7y.gifv
Not actually me
As I closed the bathroom door behind me, I took stock of the situation. Wife in bed. Ass covered in napalm. Alright, lets do this. Like an awesome suit up scene from a 1980's action flick, I disrobed, tossed my tainted undies in a trash bag, and showered.
I snuck back to bed, barely sleeping a wink for fear of another surprise assault. The next day we slept in. I got up to make my wife and I some lunch. We settle on picking up some burgers and fries. I was constipated for three days.
