Currently listening to:
�Perfect Day� by Collective Soul
I have witnessed tragic comedies
That's the world in which she leads
Well I would walk a million miles
To give her all that she needs
But she would walk a million more to do what she believes
She'll have a perfect day
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I wonder why I feel so exhausted and drained lately. I mean I�m getting more sleep than ever (maybe too much), I�m exercising (running and rollerblading when I can), and trying to eat right (a bag of popcorn for dinner followed by a tootsie pop for dessert). Ok. So maybe that�s it. I just haven�t had much of an appetite these days. But you would never guess that had you seen me with my siblings and my sister�s boyfriend last night.
It�s a Sunday night tradition. The sibs and I go out for dinner every week, and since my sister�s boyfriend (JT) is practically family, he joins us on occasion. Last night, we decided to go to a local Korean restaurant in what is quickly becoming a booming Korea town. There�s this one shopping complex in particular where 99% of the shops are Korean owned, except for one little Generous George�s restaurant on the corner of the strip mall. Last night we drove there and found out Generous George�s shut down and a new Korean buffet would soon replace it.
Seeing the huge banner that read �Opening Soon� across the empty restaurant conjured memories from my childhood. I was eight and lived in the outskirts of downtown Baltimore, which was probably the worst place you could live other than the heart of Baltimore City itself. I remember walking into a Korean-owned convenient store located in a predominantly black neighborhood. Next door, a Korean-owned and operated dry cleaners was opening up. I remember overhearing two black males talking to one another. One said to the other, �Fock yo. This is becoming a chink town. They�re overtaking our neighborhood.�
�Chink� was a term I heard a lot as a kid. But it was always out of the mouth of ignorant children who liked to hassle and pick on weak, nerdy Asian girls (I won�t name any names). This was the first time I heard an adult say it. And it made me angry, sad, scared, and resentful all at once. I wanted to say something really stupid like, �Excuse me, sir. But I don�t see a sign that says this is your neighborhood. And we�re gooks, by the way. Not chinks.�
I remember watching Margaret Cho say something like that once on television. She said when someone called her a chink, she would correct them in saying, �I�m not a chink. I�m a gook. If you�re going to be a racist, get your terminology straight.� I cheered for her, because I thought it was the smartest comeback I had ever heard. But I never had the guts to say it to anyone. I went home with enough bruises and scratches from having been beat up by the local neighborhood kids�and that was just for looking at them. I wasn�t about to open my smartass mouth and get jumped on by a gang of angry, stupid elementary kids.
Funny how a simple �Opening Soon� sign reminded me of that insignificant incident so long ago.
Enough sidetracking. Back to the subject at hand�our dinner. Or feast, as it was last night. It was late (about 9pm), so we were all starving. The waitress hands us our menus and after five minutes of deliberation, we�re ready to order. But our waitress is a bit preoccupied with the other paying customers there that evening. For some reason, the joint is packed. You�ve got your average young Korean couple with their absolutely adorable toddler in one corner, an old ajussi eating alone at one table, and your numerous groups of young 20-somethings drinking and laughing over their meal. The restaurant has recently been remodeled with new bright-colored furniture and the waitresses are sporting new uniforms. This restaurant has been here for ages, but it�s got a new look and feel to it. We all agree they�ve done a good job and the place is looking pretty snazzy.
Finally, I wave down the waitress and in a frenzy, she comes over to take our order. Now keep in mind, there is only four of us. I order in Korean: spicy kalbi-tang, bulgogi gim-bap, kimchi-bo-kum-bap, soon-do-boo jigae, kimchi jigae, and whole-roasted chicken (that was JT's choice).
The waitress looks at me with an odd expression on her face. I�m not sure if she didn�t understand my Korean or if she didn�t catch all of the order. So she goes down the list again to make sure she has it right and when I nod to confirm, she smiles, nods, and then turns away.
My sister�s boyfriend is cracking up at this point. �Man, you guys are pigs. She was looking around to make sure there was only four of us at the table.�
The food comes out one by one (not all at once like in most American places). We share the dishes as they come out and devour the meal as though we haven�t eaten in ages. My sister and I don�t generally eat like this, but we�ve learned that when dining out with the boys, we have to fend for ourselves otherwise we don�t get one lick or drop of anything on the table.
After we�re all stuffed beyond capacity, we sit and look at our work of art. Half of the chicken is left, which we box and take home. Otherwise, we�ve done a pretty good job. Although stuffed, my mouth is craving sweets at this point. The waitress comes back with our bill and four starlight mints. Good enough for me.
My sister�s boyfriend picks up the check. [Good man she�s got there. Of course for other reasons. =P He and I used to be very good friends before they started dating. Now he�s just a punk.] We leave the restaurant and decide to stand outside for a little bit, enjoying the cool night air. JT and I reminisce on our numerous past outings at this restaurant and particularly the parking lot itself. We reenact some of our less than proud moments for my siblings. JT and I think it�s absolutely hilarious, while my brother doesn�t have a clue what we�re talking about. Oddly enough, there a lot of fond memories (when we can actually remember what happened that night). But there�s also a couple incidents at that place I�d like to forget.
Finally, we all get into my brother�s sporty new 2001 Maxima (he lives like a spoiled kid, but he�s not), and we head home. My brother's got Missy Elliot blasting through his speakers, and he and JT attempt to do some funky, cool head-bopping but fail miserably. My sister and I playfully cower in the backseat, slightly embarrassed we know the two wackos up front.
Everything is good in my life, and being with my family reminds me of that. I couldn�t ask for anything more or anything less. And as we pass the �Opening Soon� sign on the way out, I think to myself if someone were to call me a gook or a chink at this very moment, I�d simply say �thank you very much� and walk on by with a big smile on my face.
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