Wednesday, November 10, 2004

Bongwater Porkfat Zaboomafoo

They stop selling McGriddles at 10:30 so I decided to try this Vietnamese place near the office at lunch today. I have developed a raging fetish for pho, which is basically beef broth with long, white rice noodles and pieces of rare beef in it. I eat pho at least once a week, in part I think because anything about Vietnam reminds me of that scene in Apocalypse Now where Robert Duval says, “I love the smell of napalm in the morning. It smells like…victory.”

I took my new book into the Saigon Noodle House, found a quiet little corner table and ordered the No. 3 with a Diet Coke. Then I settle in for a nice, mellow hour of slurping piping hot soup and reading about this dude who picks up women at sexual addiction support group meetings.

My plan worked to perfection for about 10 minutes, at which point an Asian woman (whom we’ll call Phong) and her friend sat down at the table next to me. From the minute her ass hit the wicker-backed chair, Phong began speaking a language I didn’t recognize (which basically means it wasn’t English) at the top of her lungs. She wasn’t yelling, but her volume was barely one click below a primal scream.

It sounded something like this:

“Maay! Bongwater porkfat zaboomafoo! Boomshakalakah bokchoi choppedliver metallica pingpong doohickey chakakahn!”

This was not simple ethnic or cultural unfamiliarity on my part. I know this because every other head in the restaurant turned in the direction of Phong’s voice, partly squinting as one might do if someone sounded an airhorn six inches from one’s ear. Phong was shouting and she didn’t care who heard the sordid details of her bongwater porkfat zaboomafoo.

“Excuse me,” I said, leaning over and talking directly to Phong. “Do you think you could keep it down just a little bit? I’m trying to read.”

Silence. Phong turned her head toward me and gave me a look I might have expected if I pissed in her pho. Her eyes filled with rage.

“Chipwich!” she screamed at me, now standing and looking straight down at me. “Loch Ness Chewbacca ginseng! Cantankerous jicama John Kerry tchochke tu-tu!”

Now I’m fucking pissed. You can say whatever you want about my chipwich, but bringing politics into it crosses the line where I have to get all angry on your ass. I stand, throw my chopsticks onto the table and put the tip of my nose right up against hers.

“What did you just say about John Kerry?” I bark. “Did you just call him a tchochke tu-tu? I’ve got your tchochke tu-tu right here, you Republican hag! Don’t let your mouth write checks your ass can’t cash!”

We go back and forth a few more times like this. She calls me a phosphate jericurl colostomy and I tell her that her breath smells like she just drank a maggot milkshake with a cherry on top (which the owner of the restaurant didn’t seem to like, but that’s neither here nor there).

Finally, the other patrons in the restaurant come over and separate us. Phong and her friend leave, which is fine by me, and I sit down and go back to my pho and my book.

I love the smell of pho in the afternoon after a shouting match with an angry Republican Vietnamese immigrant. It smells like victory.


At 5:51 PM, Blogger honestyrain said...

seriously, that woman and her friends went to my gym and would scream their heads off on the steam room as i sat there in all my nudity attempting to relax. thanks for tearing a strip of her. i never had the balls.

At 6:38 PM, Blogger Sleeping Mommy said...

I have to ask if this is a true story. The hilarity of it defies any ring of truth whatsoever. Thanks for the laugh, and if I wasn't so amazed by it all I really wouldn't even care if it was true or not--it was that good!

At 6:48 PM, Blogger Lala said...

But you ARE a phosphate jericurl colostomy and you've been watching too much Fear Factor(Maggot Milkshake).

At 6:25 AM, Blogger drawdawn said...

So funny!

At 6:52 AM, Anonymous Anonymous said...

Why would you be concerned that John Kerry is a phoput komsutra? We all know he is.

At 9:33 AM, Blogger Fiber said...

Would that be "Choke" by Chuck Palahniuk?
Love that book.

At 7:39 AM, Blogger Kelly Hanson said...

I just found you blog. This posting has to be the funniest thing I have ever read. I feel ya!


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