So it is another themed Works For Me Wednesday and the theme is “Things That Don’t Work For Me.” I am sitting here wracking my brain and am at a lose. This is either because I am so freakin’ brilliant that I never try things that don’t work for me, or because my brain is fried from an evening spent at the local go-cart track/arcade after consuming large amounts of pizza at the 3 hour pizza buffet. In my defense I tried to hit the salad portion of the buffet, but the line was ridiculous. Who gets salad at a pizza buffet? Did they not see all the pizza??!!
I apparently still have food on the brain (not to mention on the belly) because it suddenly occurred to me what really doesn’t work for me. Chinese food. Let me explain why.
My junior year of college I studied abroad in Asia for a semester. It was an amazing experiece I will never forget. But there was a bit of a problem in that I didn’t like any of the food basically the whole time. In Japan, it was the seafood. Not really a fan of seafood and I’m livin’ in the land of sushi. In fact, we stayed a weekend with a host family and when they asked my what I like to eat, I replied, “Nothing out of the ocean.” They looked at me with a shocked expression and said, “What, not even octopus?” Um, yeah, especially not octopus.
Now at the time I went to China, I liked Chinese food. In fact, the summer before I left, I remember getting together with a fellow study abroad-er and ordering a large amount of chinese food in order to try and teach ourselves to eat with chopsticks (good thing cause they really didn’t have forks over there). Then we actually get to China. Let me just say that what you people are eating and calling “chinese food” is not Chinese food. Their food has heads on it. And sometimes fur. And could have possibly been a house pet at one point. So suddenly my love for Chinese food takes a turn for the worse.
I should also note that at the time I weighed 98 pounds. Please don’t hate me, I just had crazy metabolism. And I didn’t in any way appreciate it at the time. Foolish, foolish youth. Anywho, I was starving over there and desperate for something that resembled food. Sadly, that became McDonalds, which barely resembles food, but close enough. So I would step out of our hotel and hail a rickshaw to have some poor man carry me in a cart on wheels to the local McDonalds where I would order a Big Mac. Man, those had never tasted better. And who knew, but I am a very good rickshaw tipper.
For more tips, head over to Rocks in my Dryer.