Ordering Chinese Food on a Bus

When I closed my eyes I found myself on a bus traveling across the country. It would only stop for about a half an hour at every place, and although I'm sure we stayed in some hotels along the way we were hardly there long enough to actually see a town, so I supposed that it was not actually something you could call a tour bus. It seemed to me that we were on our way to an airport eventually to be taken over seas somewhere, but it wasn't really clear where. Up until Detroit things had been rather boring, it was about then that reality finally started to crack.

When I tried to get back on the bus the driver shut the door in my face then was very insistent that I show her my ticket. Now when I say on my face I really mean 'on my face' I had already stepped up the first step and was literally thrown back by the door. Now this insistence on a ticket would normally not seem out of place, but considering that I had been on this very bus for the most part of a week, and with this very driver as it made its way from California somewhat irked me. The more so since I didn't really know if I had a ticket, I'd never seen one nor did I really know what it was supposed to look like. I reached into my pocket to find several scraps of paper that could only have passed for a bus ticket sometime before computers and all these fancy 'colors' they use these days. Finally satisfied, we were allowed back on the bus with a warning to 'get our shit together, or we'd be finding ourselves on the side of a very lonely road someday.' Which far from motivated me to take any greater care in responsibility for my tickets and instead guaranteed that eye contact with this loathsome creature would be more uncomfortable for her the next time our paths crossed. I was sure that before the next stop I would have found a suitable face that would be enough to frighten her out of at least one nights sleep. I set to work on my face as it reflected angrily back at me in the window and practiced a few variations of my favorites.

"...while I found that intriguing, I did not find it appetizing..."

The next thing I remembered was waking on the back of the bus as it was driving into a restaurant in New York. Yes, into. It was some large building with windows in the front that opened up (quite a bit) to accommodate this. When we came to a stop the front of the bus was gone, and the unoccupied seat in front of me had been folded forward making its back into my table, and while I found that intriguing, I did not find it appetizing as it had, over the miles, collected some obvious marks that signified it as a favorite place to rest ones weary feet while traveling. When I looked beyond the confines of the bus I found myself in what looked to be a rather nice establishment for eating, that is if you can get beyond the obvious limitations of sanitation and tastefulness that come with having the back half of a large filthy bus taking up an equally large portion of the seating. I could not.

Apparently this was going to be our entire stay in New York, no Broadway, no Park, no penny flinging, no random profanity slung this way or that, and worse yet, no Chinese food! How can one go to New York and not get some good Chinese food (delivered on some form of two wheel transport preferably.) As soon as I realized this I began to search for a menu as some food would be better than no food and since the bus driver had already changed into her waitress outfit and was working her way around the bus taking orders, time was short. No one else seemed to have a menu so I took that to mean that they could make almost anything there. I though perhaps it would be worth trying there attempt at Chinese food.

"I hoped that this was not a reference to spittle and wondered if it was too late to whip my glaring look in her direction."

When the waitress (bus driver) came to me she looked at me with disgust in her eyes that said 'Oh it's you, that punk who can't seem to keep track of his ticket.' It was then that I realized that the facial expression I had planned out for her was not only not on my face, but that it would not have the desired effect on a waitress who was likely to have some influence on the amount of saliva I would find in my meal. She had won this round as well! In as meek and as down trodden a voice as I could muster I said "Chinese food, please." That was not nearly specific enough, of course, so I asked if they 'might have a menu so I could order something more specific, perhaps they have some specialty I would like?' She grudgingly obliged, to my surprise until she added that I was sure to find a meal specifically suited to me. I hoped that this was not a reference to spittle and wondered if it was too late to whip my glaring look in her direction.

"...in this case the label had a happy looking clam opening its mouth to show how cheesy it was inside."

The menu was more informative for me than I had expected. On the cover was the name of the restaurant and it seemed to suggest that I would find something to my liking as the place was called "The New York Diner Experience!!!" and although there did not appear to be any specific explanation as to why a name like that would warrant three exclamation points a cursory glance through the rest of the menu led me to suspect it was in reference to their always busy restrooms and how they managed to keep them that way. The entire menu read as though it were some sort of advertisement for soup, Campbell's soup specifically. Almost every page had some special recipe that was made with a can of good old wholesome, 'tasty as mom makes' this or that. The sandwiches were not exempt and I may never get over the horror of having read how they prepare their 'Classic American Style Grilled Cheese" not that it was unsanitary or unhealthy, I just don't think Clam Chowder belongs on the list of healthy ingredients. Many of these soup infused "Classics" had actual cans placed prominently where a picture of the dish would normally be and in this case the label had a happy looking clam opening its mouth to show how cheesy it was inside. In the proper setting I can see this being funny or at least amusing but in the context of something you were actually going to eat and combined with several dozen other such labeled cans it very nearly made me sick. The only thing that stopped this from happening was my determination to have some Chinese food. Somehow I knew that throwing up right then would doom me to a dinner of unsalted Saltine crackers and tap water.

My waitress (bus driver) returned and demanded my order. Unfortunately I had not managed to figure out where the Chinese was hidden in this menu, but all hope was not lost yet as I suddenly yelled out 'Moo Goo Goo Goo!!!' To which I began to laugh realizing that we were not in Chicago and that no one else would get that joke. As she began to pester me I became belligerent and began to shout, "Where's the Chinese food?" and "I've heard that in America there are only two places to get good Chinese food, San Francisco and New York. I've had the one I want the other!" The last part I tried to turn into a chant like at a wrestling match in the hopes that others would join in on my battle:

"I've had the one...I want the other!"
"I've had the one..I want the other!"

But predictably it was unsuccessful and only seemed to irk the other patrons of this increasingly questionable "fine eating establishment (!!!)" A glance over to where the cooks and wait staff collide confirmed this, as they seemed to be pointing in my direction while formulating a proper seasoning for whatever I was about order. I finally found my precious Chinese food section and confidently order some Pork Chow Mien, knowing full well by that point that it was not likely to be a very satisfying meal, but who knows maybe Chicken Noodle is what they use as a secret ingredient over in San Francisco as well.