You know the Chinese buffet is gonna be good when your table number is written with a fine tipped Sharpie. The masking tape marked with the undisputed champ of food quality monikers “A1”. It could also be considered my temporary house arrest ID, Until my debt/check is paid. In my case it was an omen of things to come. It reminded me of the Book “The Black pearl” where the emaciatedly poor farmer shouts to the heavens; “Bad Rice, Bad Rice!” In hopes of faking out the wheelers and dealers of Human fate. To grant this lowly farmer a good crop and a chance to live another year.
In my head I did the same and mentally screamed; “Bad Food Bad Food!”. The Culinary Gods this time would not hear my plea and would not invoke any Yum Yum Mojo upon my plate of food. Instead they would clean out the celestial fridge on high. Letting loose from deepest freon induced slumber a hoard of off tasting, bad smelling unworldly things. Things best left to have been casted out and banished to the underworld or, at the very least composted, 😉