WHY I DON'T TRUST THE CHINESE

I know there’s been a lot in the news lately about China, and I know that we all have our suspicions of the Chinese. But I can tell you from personal experience not to trust them. This is another long story, so if you don’t have time to read it, or don’t care why I don’t trust the Chinese, just move on down the page. There is more interesting stuff down there.

We have been on a diet around our house for awhile. You might have heard of it. It’s called the “Empty Pantry Diet.” Yep, it’s been kinda tight around here lately.

But the settlement finally came through for my youngest boy concerning that unfortunate incident involving the big fish tank down at the Bass Pro Shop. So I was feeling real generous, and asked the Mrs. would she like to go out to a restaurant to eat. She said she would. So I told her “Baby, you pick where…and money is no subject.”

Now, I was only half listening, but I thought she said she wanted to go to this new “Mongoloid Buffet” she had heard about. Well, I was kinda (let me get my word book…) dubious about the whole idea of that, but I was feeling awful charitable and Christian since we were flush with cash, and I figured we could go help them mongoloid folks out…you know, sort of “sharing the blessing.”

Well, we get down there and right away I get my suspicions. First off, the folks that own this place have spelled “Mongoloid” wrong on the sign out front They wrote it out “Mongolian Buffet.” I start to thinking that if these mongoloid folks can’t even spell, how in the Sam Hill are they gonna cook food worth eating? But I didn’t say nothing to the Mrs., since she was all excited about this big “lunch out.” (We went at lunch, cause it’s $2 cheaper than later on).

So we go in. Now, this is a “buffet.” If y’all don’t know it, a “buffet” is a place where you pay up front, and then go on in and belly up and eat until you feel sinful. So right away my suspicions deepen. The lady there at the place where you pay was not mongoloid at all. She was Chinese (I could tell she was Chinese, because I can tell). Now, I was expecting to be helping some mongoloid folks out with my patronage, not China people. But I just kept my mouth shut, and figured that these mongoloid people had hired this Chinese lady to take the money up, and probably the mongoloid folks were waiting tables, and filling up the buffet, and washing dishes and all.

So, the Mrs. pays the Chinese lady, and she tells us we can go on in and set down anywhere we want, and get our drinks from the Soda Fountain, and hands us our cups and silverware. So we go on in further to the place where the food tables are set out, and the tables where you set down are. There were a lot of people there, but we found a spot and put our stuff down and headed to the food tables.

Well, I went up and down the food tables and didn’t see anything that looked good at all. I won’t even try to describe it all, but it looked pretty pitiful to me…I won’t describe it…just in case y’all just ate.
So I was looking around at the wait people, and the folks stocking up the food tables, and I don’t see a single mongoloid fellow or gal…they’re all Chinese.

But then, something caught my eye. Right out there in front of the kitchen was this fellow with a white coat and a funny looking hat (kinda like a hat Santa would wear, but all white). He was standing in front of this big flat iron…I mean it was big…probably 2 by 4 foot. And people were lined up with funny looking stuff like spageti, and vegetables, and meat and such, waiting for him to cook it for them. I looked real close at that fellow, and I could see that he was probably mongoloid.

Since this was the reason I had come here in the first place, I decided to go over there and give him my business. So I grabbed up a bunch of that spageti-looking stuff, and some other things that I really didn’t know what they were, and got in line to wait my turn. Man, that mongoloid boy knew what he was doing. He chopped, and flipped, and smattered stuff around on that flat iron like nobody’s business!

Well, when it got to be my turn I handed him my plate of stuff and he went after it…

I was kind of curious about him, so I started talking to him and asked him what it was like to be a mongoloid boy, trying to make a living on his own. I mean I was real Christian about it…using compassion and all.

But this boy got kind of excited and started talking real fast back at me. It sounded like he was talking Chinese words. He went on and on, and started chopping all that stuff real hard while he was talking. I don’t recall everything he said, but I remembered one phrase real good. So, I wrote it down when I got back to the table and figured I’d call my oldest son out in California later (he’s a Chinese linguist, and he knows Chinese) to ask him what it means.

I figured I’d give this cooking boy some grace, seeing as he was mongoloid and all, so I didn’t act upset. Well, I set down and ate this food that this mongoloid boy had fried up for me, and I gotta tell you…very disappointing… (I won’t go into the details).

So I went and got a big soup bowl and filled it up with soft-serve ice cream from the machine and put some broke up Oreo cookies on top, and hot fudge syrup on top of that, set down with it, and finally got sinfully full.

I didn’t like the food at all, but I figured I had helped out a mongoloid fellow that was trying to get along in life…it’s the Christian thing to do you know.

So we finished, and the Mrs. left a tip for the Chinese gal that had come around asking if we were okay. The Mrs. seemed like she had a real good time, but I felt deceived by the whole deal. I had only been able to help out one mongoloid boy…the tip even went to this Chinese gal…she was real nice, but she was not mongoloid at all.

I called my oldest son later that night (the Chinese linguist), and told him the whole story, and told him what that mongoloid boy had said to me in Chinese, and asked him what it meant. He laughed for a good long while and finally told me, “Dad, it’s amazing that this guy figured out in just a minute what it took me years to understand about you.”

He never would tell me what it meant, and I was proud…I always taught the boys not to brag on me, because I don’t want to get prideful.

So, this is just a warning…don’t trust the Chinese…they’ll play on your sympathy just to get your $5.95 each, plus tax