Masticating with Nancy Pierce
I Think I'm Turning Japanese: My First Visit to a Chinese Restaurant
by Nancy Pierce, Our Town Staff
I was sitting on a bus heading up to Albany for an adult-themed convention minding my own business when an old, strange-looking woman appeared and asked if she could sit next to me. I turned and gasped at her appearance. She had a sort of yellowish skin, like an unripened Mexican, and beady little eyes that darted mischievously back and forth from behind narrow openings, like those slits in bunkers that they fire guns through.
Speechless, I nodded and she took her seat.
After a few moments, I cautiously tapped the ancient being on the shoulder and said, very slowly, "Excuse-me. I-am-friend. Where-you-come-from?" Rejecting the cookie I held to her mouth, she replied (in perfect English no less!), "Harriotpark. But I was born in Albany. I'm going to visit some family." She added, "Are you okay?"
Harriot Park? Well I had never been so shocked in my life! Who knew there were creatures such as this so close to our own backyards? I had to investigate further. I tapped her once more, "Ah, hello, again little one, just curious, where does your, ah, tribe hail from?" The urchin laughed. "I can tell you don't have many Asian friends. I'm Chinese." I sounded it out: "Chi-nee." She corrected me, "No, like this, chi-NEES." I extended my hand: "I'm Nancy." She put her delicate little hand in mine: "Helene." I replied, "Harl-ean?" "No, like this: Hell-EEN."
We arrived at the restaurant, an exotic strip mall space called "Schezuan Palace." Towards the front, pretty shimmering fish swam about. In the back, more of the funny little people ran around shouting in a kitchen. I laughed. How curious these Chinchin people were!
As we were shown to our table, I asked my new friend, "Where do you people come from? I've never seen one of you before." "We're from China," she replied. "Is that like Europe?" She laughed once more, to my slight frustration before she dropped the bomb: "No, we're from China. It's in Asia, along with Korea, Japan, India, and so on." 'What's this?' I thought to myself, 'a new continent?' I like to consider myself a pretty cultured individual, having eaten at a multitude of American, Caucasian, and White restaurants, but this was almost more than I could bare! I only had the vaguest recollection of India, something about jobs, but to the other names I was a complete stranger. To think, I came for an S&M good time, and instead had an Asian -educational good time!
The next hour was filled with little dough pouches filled with bits of meat and vegetable matter, along with rice (just like the rice we eat!) and meats and sauces and noodles. I enjoyed my meal thoroughly, although I admit to having trouble with the chom-sticks, those small rounded sticks I saw Helene using on the bus.
When I asked for a fork, the little servant began laughing and chittering in a strange tongue to Helene. I demanded what was so funny. Helene told me he had just made a joke that was hard to translate, but that it was mostly complementary; something about the year of the dragon and the rays of the early morning sun. She said there weren't really any English words for what he just said. It made me think of the time I tried to barter sex in exchange for my freedom in Tijuana (for the record, they turned my offer down, but did give me my freedom).
Our meal thusly finished, the same little servant man from before (or maybe it was a different one--it's hard to tell as they all look alike) appeared (these people are always scurrying and appearing like ghosts, they never just walk up and say, "Hello!") and brought us an orange. I picked it up as though seeing an old friend after an extended vacation in a strange land. "Now this I've eaten before!" Helene started laughing. Then the host of duplicates began laughing. Next thing I knew, I was laughing too and at that moment I realized that laughter truly is the universal language.
Next week: Nancy Gets Her Grind On at the Albany Sex Expo!
by Nancy Pierce, Our Town Staff
I was sitting on a bus heading up to Albany for an adult-themed convention minding my own business when an old, strange-looking woman appeared and asked if she could sit next to me. I turned and gasped at her appearance. She had a sort of yellowish skin, like an unripened Mexican, and beady little eyes that darted mischievously back and forth from behind narrow openings, like those slits in bunkers that they fire guns through.
Speechless, I nodded and she took her seat.
After a few moments, I cautiously tapped the ancient being on the shoulder and said, very slowly, "Excuse-me. I-am-friend. Where-you-come-from?" Rejecting the cookie I held to her mouth, she replied (in perfect English no less!), "Harriotpark. But I was born in Albany. I'm going to visit some family." She added, "Are you okay?"
Harriot Park? Well I had never been so shocked in my life! Who knew there were creatures such as this so close to our own backyards? I had to investigate further. I tapped her once more, "Ah, hello, again little one, just curious, where does your, ah, tribe hail from?" The urchin laughed. "I can tell you don't have many Asian friends. I'm Chinese." I sounded it out: "Chi-nee." She corrected me, "No, like this, chi-NEES." I extended my hand: "I'm Nancy." She put her delicate little hand in mine: "Helene." I replied, "Harl-ean?" "No, like this: Hell-EEN."
This went on for some time. At some point I fell asleep. When I awoke we were almost in Albany. I turned to my new friend, the Chi-NEAW woman named Hell-EEN. She was eating a curious mixture using two sticks. "Savage," I muttered. "What's that?" she said. Remembering my manners, I replied, "What is that you're eating? Is it magic?" She laughed again, covering her mouth. "You're kidding, right? It's lo-mein." I started: "Lo--?" before she quickly cut me off. "Look," she said in between greedy bites, "I have a few hours to kill before I have to head over to my sister's place. Why don't I take you to a great restaurant I know?" I obliged, noting conspicuously that I was in the food industry as a THREE TIME OUR TOWN AWARD-WINNING AUTHOR. She nodded quietly and I sat back down. Yep, this Chi-BEEK woman was one stoic customer.
We arrived at the restaurant, an exotic strip mall space called "Schezuan Palace." Towards the front, pretty shimmering fish swam about. In the back, more of the funny little people ran around shouting in a kitchen. I laughed. How curious these Chinchin people were!
As we were shown to our table, I asked my new friend, "Where do you people come from? I've never seen one of you before." "We're from China," she replied. "Is that like Europe?" She laughed once more, to my slight frustration before she dropped the bomb: "No, we're from China. It's in Asia, along with Korea, Japan, India, and so on." 'What's this?' I thought to myself, 'a new continent?' I like to consider myself a pretty cultured individual, having eaten at a multitude of American, Caucasian, and White restaurants, but this was almost more than I could bare! I only had the vaguest recollection of India, something about jobs, but to the other names I was a complete stranger. To think, I came for an S&M good time, and instead had an Asian -educational good time!
The next hour was filled with little dough pouches filled with bits of meat and vegetable matter, along with rice (just like the rice we eat!) and meats and sauces and noodles. I enjoyed my meal thoroughly, although I admit to having trouble with the chom-sticks, those small rounded sticks I saw Helene using on the bus.
When I asked for a fork, the little servant began laughing and chittering in a strange tongue to Helene. I demanded what was so funny. Helene told me he had just made a joke that was hard to translate, but that it was mostly complementary; something about the year of the dragon and the rays of the early morning sun. She said there weren't really any English words for what he just said. It made me think of the time I tried to barter sex in exchange for my freedom in Tijuana (for the record, they turned my offer down, but did give me my freedom).
Our meal thusly finished, the same little servant man from before (or maybe it was a different one--it's hard to tell as they all look alike) appeared (these people are always scurrying and appearing like ghosts, they never just walk up and say, "Hello!") and brought us an orange. I picked it up as though seeing an old friend after an extended vacation in a strange land. "Now this I've eaten before!" Helene started laughing. Then the host of duplicates began laughing. Next thing I knew, I was laughing too and at that moment I realized that laughter truly is the universal language.
Next week: Nancy Gets Her Grind On at the Albany Sex Expo!
