I know a lot of you think I have a pretty good sense of humor. I know a lot of you, especially one of you, don’t think I have much of a sense of humor at all. One of you doesn’t think I have any sense at all, but you read every one of my columns solely to be able to post obnoxious comments about it and me on Facebook.
That’s okay. It’s all a big joke and the joke is on you because you are giving the paper the attention it wants from readers. You’re actually reading things in the paper. To tell the God’s honest truth, I know I am not as funny as I think I am sometimes, but I am a lot funnier than, say, a colonoscopy. I had one of those, and while I was knocked out and didn’t get the “full” experience, I hardly think there was a lot of humor there.
The other night, my wife and I ordered dinner from Panda Express. If you are unfamiliar with Panda Express, it’s not quite Chinese food but better than fast food. I ordered a couple of chicken dishes and some rice and was altogether pleased with what I got for my 10 bucks. Last night, I called my wife from the car on my way home to discuss what was for dinner.
“What’s for dinner?” I asked, because that’s what you say when you want to know what you will be eating for dinner.
“Food,” my wife replied.
“Good. I like food. What kind of food am I having?” I asked, because that’s what you say when you want to know what kind of food you are going to be having.
She said she wasn’t sure and it had to be quick and easy because she forgot to take the chicken out of the freezer that she planned on cooking for dinner.
“Do you want to get something out?” I inquired, “That is, if we have the money to get something out.”
“We have the money for something out. Not sit-down-and-have-a-waitress-bring-it-to-us out, but pick-something-up-from-a-drive-thru out.”
“Why don’t we get what we had the other night?
“That works,” my wife said, relieved.
“Cool. I’ll have the panda meat.”
“The what?”
“The panda meat. You know, like I had the other night.”
“That wasn’t panda meat.”
“The place is called Panda Express.”
She sighed.
“You didn’t get panda meat.” my wife explained.
“Then what did I get, smarty pants?”
“Not panda meat.”
“What did I eat if I didn’t eat panda meat? The place has it right in the name — Panda Express. It’s panda, and it’s served quickly.”
“No.”
“Panda meat and rice.”
“You did not eat panda meat. You got chicken with almonds and some other chicken. Sesame or something.”
“You know, I thought that panda tasted a lot like chicken. You know, everyone says stuff tastes like chicken when they first try it. The first time I had alligator, I thought it tasted like chicken. Frog legs taste like wings with a little fishiness to them. I just figured the panda meat just tasted like chicken.”
“That’s not how any of this works, Einstein. You ordered the food from the website. You knew it was not panda and you knew it was chicken. You’re just being dumb.”
“For all I know, they can’t serve panda legally, so they just call it something else on the menu, but when you go and pick it up you tell them you are there for the ‘almond chicken’ and that’s like a code word for panda meat.”
“Do you hear yourself right now?” my wife asked, exasperated.
I know it’s a little late now, but to make a long story short, I took this all the way. When we got to Panda Express, I voiced my concern that my last order contained absolutely no panda, but I thought I would give them another chance. The young lady behind the counter looked at me as if she had eaten a handful of bees.
“Don’t pay any attention to him,” my wife said, “He’s an idiot.”
Idiot or not, I expect a place that calls itself Panda Express to live up to its name. The International House Of Pancakes has, well, pancakes. Outback Steakhouse has steaks.
It’s quite simple. Most of the time.
Just don’t ask the nice girl at Subway what she did when I gave her a token and asked for a transfer to a crosstown bus.
Award-winning columnist Joe Weaver, a native of Baltimore, is a husband, father, pawnbroker and gun collector. From his home in New Bern, he writes on the lighter side of family life.
