Chinese Food Delivery 101

     Want to know how to become a Chinese food delivery guy in a nascar second? Keep reading and you will find out.

     Just in case you’ve never read one of Cousin J.D.’s posts, I grew up on a cotton plantation in Alabama. My life there on the plantation was gay, but not in a San Francisco gay way. Momma always hosted tea parties underneath our magnolia trees where she was joined by the Baldwin Sisters from The Waltons and a white-coated Colonel from Kentucky. As momma and the aforementioned gathered in the shade, a dozen slaves in tuxedos catered to their every desire. Around supper time the entire family would join momma and her guests underneath the trees  where we dined on the finest cornbread, pinto beans, chow-chow relish and, of course, chicken that the Colonel from Kentucky fried himself. Afterwards, we had momma’s nanner pudding (banana to you yankees) for dessert on the banks of the river as we watched the Generel Jackson paddle upstream. We had all those amenities (Cousin Brian taught me that fancy word), yet we never had Chinese food delivery.

     That was years ago and like The Jeffersons, I’ve moved on up.   

    Over ten years ago I left the plantation in Alabama to make my own way in this world. I ended up employed in the rhinestone mines of Nashville. At first I only earned minimum wage as I toiled with my pick to find only the perfect rhinestone that would one day adorn Porter Wagoner’s coat. But one of the benefits of living in a large metropolitan area such as Nashville is that the Chinese joints will deliver food right to your trailer door.

    I got a fancy coupon in my mailbox one day. It was for Chinatown Restaurant and I noticed they had $1 eggrolls on their value menu. Later that night I called and ordered three shrimp eggrolls (.10 extra for shrimp) for pick-up since you have to order a minimum of $15 for delivery. I hoped in my trusty Dodge pick ‘em up truck and drove down to Chinatown to get my grub. I walked though the door and here is where the movie begins:

        (A very attractive man (that’s me), yet stocky, slightly overweight and bald walks through the doors of the Chinatown Restaurant to pick up an order of shrimp eggrolls. Upon entering he inhales the MSG in the air and  and immediately goes to the toilet to ‘do a pooh.’ After relieving himself he exits the bathroom and approaches the counter to pay for his food.”

J.D.:  Whew! I feel ten pounds lighter (wiping sweat from is forehead). Yes mam. I called in an order for three shrimp eggrolls.

China Gal: Yes sir. Your total three dollah and thirty cent. Excuse me sir. Can you tell me where dis address at?

(She holds up a piece of paper and shows it to J.D.)

J.D.: No, I’m sorry.

China Gal: How bout dis one?

J.D: Can’t say that I do

China Gal: Jus one more. How about dis one?

J.D: 123 Pushover Ln?. Yeah, it’s just right out here…

China Gal: Good! You take food for us, cowboy!

 (She tries to hand a bag of food to J.D.)

J.D: Hold on there Tokyo Rose! I just came to get my eggrolls and some sauce I don’t want…

China Gal: You number one, G.I. We way behind! I give you eggroll free and money to take to dis address!

(she hands the bag of food to J.D. who accepts it this time)

J.D: Hey Flo, you’re real sweet. I want you to know that the only reason I’m doing this is that you Orientals have always impressed me in the movies with all that Kung Fu and crap, not to mention the way you can speak with your words and mouth out of sync. That’s really impressive. Yep, I’ve kinda always admired you Chinese even though I’m still a little ticked about that trick yall pulled on us at Pearl Harbor during the Vietnam War. I guess I can help this one time, I reckon.

(J.D. delivers the food, collects the $30 and starts driving back to Chinatown. He suddenly realizes that there is nothing keeping him from driving home and keeping the money for himself. However, J.D. doesn’t want the Oriental people to think that Americans are selfish, dishonest or greedy. In other words he doesn’t want them to think that the average American citizen is like the average American politician.)

J.D: (walking back in with the money) Here you go, mam.

China Gal: Here you food and five dollah, cowboy.

J.D: That’s sweet but it’s too much, Madame Butterfly. I’ll just take the food.

China Gal: You so kind G.I! You come in for free lunch tomorrow!            

(The next day at lunch time as J.D walks through the doors of the Chinatown restaurant.)

J.D: Your not going to turn me into a delivery guy today are you?

China Gal: Oh! You such a funny cracker! You honkey have so much humor! (She turns and tells her husband that J.D. (that’s me) is the one who helped her the previous night.)

China Guy: Thank you so much for help, cowboy. You eat lunch for free. G.I. number one!

J.D: No problem, Mao. I’ll have the shrimp lo mein with a Mountain Dew please.

China Guy: Right on my brother from another mother!

(J.D. sits down with his food and begins to eat it while reading the latest copy of GRIT magazine. China Doll approaches with another plate of food.)

China Gal: This also free. It crab ragoon.

J.D: Thank you. That’s very kind.

(Moments later China Guy comes up to J.D.’s table as he finishes eating and reading GRIT.)

China Guy: You come be my driver Clint Eastwood! I give you six dollah hour and all food you want!

(J.D. thinks about all the free Chinese food he can eat for free when the MSG suddenly hits his digestive system. He excuses himself to go ‘do a pooh.’ A few minutes later he returns to the table and China Guy.”

J.D: Whew! I feel ten pounds lighter (wiping sweat from his forehead). As for your offer, my Dodge pick em up truck’s got a big old 8 cylinder in it and doesn’t get very good gas mileage…

China Guy: OK John Wayne! I give you seven dollah hour, one dollah every delivery and all the food you can eat. How you like that cowboy!

J.D: That sounds pretty good but……

China Guy: (Interrupting) Good you start tonight!

J.D: Hold on there Shortround! I’ve got a commitment tonight. I tell you what, I’ll come back and we’ll talk about it later.

China Guy: You got deal Marshall Dillion!

( The camera fades as J.D.walks out the door, his large yet attractive backside striding into the horizon like John Wayne as the theme music from The Cowboys plays in the background.)

     And that’s the honest exaqgerrated truth. I haven’t been back to talk to China Guy (his adopted American name is John) yet but I plan on it soon. Maybe I’ll take him up on his offer. Maybe John will already have a delivery guy by the time I go back for some tasty shrimp eggrolls. But I will always have my memories, ahhh… my memories of the 20 minutes or so that I was a Chinese food delivery guy .

Precous Memories.

How they linger.          

NBA Crisis–Racist Referees

   Seems like some fancy smancy high browed Ivy Leaguers have finished a research project that concludes white NBA referees are more likely to call fouls on black players than white players.

    I know this is going to sound so 80s but I am going to say it anyways, “DUH!”

    It takes two members of Ivy League Intelligencia reviewing 13 years of statistics to tell us common cretins that it’s more likely a foul will be called on a black player. It doesn’t take me and my 8th grade education to point out that, given the fact the NBA is made up of mostly black players, the likelihood from a statistical standpoint would indeed be for black players to get called for fouls more often. I believe it was in Mrs. Betty Jean Sourwine’s ciphering class (that’s country for math) that she learned me that.

Let’s look at the PGA. Given that a majority of the golfers are white, we can logically presume that a white guy is usually going to win. Oops….I forgot about Tiger Woods. Ok that’s a bad example — nevermind. 

 I think a better use of these researchers’ time would have been to investigate how much of the fouling in the NBA is black on black fouling. Now that would be interesting and really contribute something useful to the world. Think about how much better our country would be if we knew the reason Shaq fouled, let’s say, Kobe Bryant. It could be because of the long-time feud between the East Coast and the West Coast rap scene. Maybe Shaq is still  a little mad about the death of Biggie Smalls and is taking it out on Kobe and the way he be representing the West Side. It could be that Shaq likes to foul Kobe because he be trying to represent by strolling into the lane he’s defending, thinking he’s going to score. Maybe Shaq is jealous at Kobe because he got him a white ho AND he has such a fine-looking wife. Maybe Shaq fouls Kobe Bryant because he never really liked him that much and, now that they’re not teammates, he can.

  Just think of all the possibilities and social implications if these brilliant academicians had spent their time on the real roots of problems in our country–this instance being black-on-black fouling in the NBA community. Instead we just get this lame report that white refs are calling more fouls on black players.

I call shenanigans.