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the actual god - here's a bad story lyrics
i went out for chinese food with my parents and actual maya tonight, even though it meant missing the first half of the nba all star game. years ago i threw an epic tantrum in a closet in israel because i couldn’t get the game on our hotel tv, so basically what i’m saying is that i’m growing up
first restaurant, we walk in and even though we’re in the foyer and our view of the dining area is obstructed by one of those asian folding walls, it’s obvious there’s a party going on, and some chinese man is singing karaoke unpleasantly loud. still my mom says “this place seems fun,” and asks if we can have a table for four. the mama-san tells us “we all booked,” and my mom’s like, “oh, okay, hmm.” then she gets this pleased look on her face, and i can just tell something r-t-rded is about to come out of her mouth. she starts talking real slow the way you’re supposed to talk to xenos
mom: what’s the second best chinese restaurant around here? around this area
hostess: (smiling) oh, ha ha
mom: i say second best because this one is the best
we had definitely never eaten there before, but whatever, the lady shows us on her hand how to get to shangri-la, another chinese place a few miles away. in the parking lot my mom says “wasn’t that so funny how she showed us on her hand,” and i just squint back at her
we get to shangri-la and jackpot, there’s a tv, but it’s only visible from the distinctly sh-ttier part of the restaurant. we sit there anyway, because i’m bossy. my stepdad recognizes a 90 year old lady getting up to leave from a nearby table and starts talking to her. her napkin is stuck to her lap, and she’s wearing six or seven identical “don’t privatize social security or medicare” b-ttons. i think to myself “don’t poke yourself you old so and so!” and to my chagrin, i repeat this in my head over and over again like fifty times, all the while smiling and nodding and trying not to faint
we were all standing and introducing and chatting for what seemed like forever, and after they finally left, my stepdad said that she was an old communist. my mom and i were like, “wow that was awkward,” but my stepdad was like “what are you talking about?” i was like “are you kidding,” and a small argument ensued
i go up to a female employee and ask if she can change the channel to tnt. she has no idea what i’m talking about, but to my delight, this five foot zero chinese guy in a sweater vest comes up and says “nba all star” and starts messing with the controls. it’s 8:25, and the game starts at 8:30, so when he turns it to a channel that might be tnt but also might be nbatv (it was showing some nba gala thing that didn’t look exactly like a pre-game show), i really can’t figure out if it’s the right channel, and my blood starts to boil
i tell the waitress “i don’t mean to be a bother, but i think that might be nbatv and not tnt.” this is clearly way too much for her. i search the whole restaurant and the bathroom for the guy in the vest but can’t find him. i ask the waitress again. she calls a staff meeting and somehow together they figure out what’s going on and eventually get the right channel, just in time for danny gans’ national anthem. i stand up and applaud their efforts. one of the male employees bows, and a couple of the ladies smile and blush. at this point i feel like general tso himself and i order a round of diet c0ke’s for the whole table
on the way out, we’re getting our coats and maya and i stare at the fish tank. one of the fish has a giant crusty lump over it’s eye. standard
maya: what’s that?
ag: it’s cancer. that fish is going to die soon
mom: don’t say that!
maya looks a little sad, but such is life. an eleven year old black kid walks in with a white jew dad/captor(?). for some reason my mom says h-llo. maya decides to show the guy her pink, obviously female teddy bear
guy: oooh, that’s a beautiful bear. i like his pajamas. i hope i said that right, it is a he, right?
maya: you want to touch it?
guy: oh yes. oh my, it’s so soft
stepdad: show it to the little boy, maya
my mom and i look at each other, mortified – the “little boy” was practically a black teenager. we start to leave, but my mom has to add:
mom: okay, enjoy your meal – er – enjoy it if you haven’t had it yet, or if you have, i hope you enjoyed it already, ha ha –
guy: waiting for takeout
mom: enjoy!
we get into the parking lot and my mom, clearly embarr-ssed by her own behaviour, starts chiding my stepdad for like twenty minutes for calling the black kid a little boy. i chimed in and chided both of them for lots of things
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