Bubs is Back!

Bubs is Back!

Hurray! After enduring another 24-hour journey from the US, Bubbey arrived home on Friday night. I met him at the airport (I took a bus and it only cost 20 yuan!). Some Chinese celebrity was on his flight because I was pushed and shoved by journalists and camera people vying for a better position at the gate exit. When we got home, I did a redeux of the meal I prepped several weeks ago with Wang Jian and Ya-Ya came over for dinner: salad, sauteed spinach, edamame, choc chip cookies (Alton Brown chewies). Though he had already eaten on the plane, he willingly crammed in some additional grub.

On Saturday, Bub insisted on getting up early. By 8:30 am, we had consumed egg pancakes and some grease sticks. We were having a blast touring around the city amidst the early morning bustle. However, once we got home, we fell into a coma. Didn’t get up until the afternoon. For dinner, we went to our favorite Indian restaurant Punjabi. Stuffed our faces (I hadn’t eaten like that in weeks) and then left feeling bloated and gross. We then headed down the street to Carrefour. Apparently, it had slipped our minds that it was Saturday. What a nightmare. After we arrived home, we realized we forgot to buy measuring cups. Damnit.

Sunday was another quasi-lethargic day. We got up at a decent hour in the morning and then went to Dynasty for lunch. My uncle had taken us to the Chinese restaurant before… so we went in armed with the old receipt, listing all the tasty dishes. We made some minor modifications with the ordering, but were pleased nonetheless. The thing about Dynasty is they have this lunchtime fruit/coffee/tea buffet. At 12:45, the staff sets up an entire table with all these goodies. The problem is, all the diners at that point storm the buffet table. No line, no order, no courtesies. The winning strategy seems to be someone gets to the table, grabs the tongs, and starts piling shit on the plate. Other family members then grab the loaded plate and give the person a new plate. So the key position is always held. Meanwhile, the rest of us are kept at bay. Fortunately, I am a little taller than the average Chinese kid/woman, so from the second row, I just grab over them. Screw the tongs, I just use my hands. In doing so, I got all this negative reaction from 1) servers 2) front row people, but I had my say back. I mean, after all what am I supposed to do when they stake out their positions and never leave until they’ve hoarded everything?! Originally, I had sent John to get the fruit. After all, he is a giant and I thought the Chinese would be less inclined to push and shove him. Well, he was immediately turned off by their behavior and refused to participate in the mob activity. So he actually returned to the table empty-handed. Hell, the Chinese don’t have a Miss Manners handbook. I was not to be denied. I was determined to get in there and get my fruit. It wasn’t easy, but I returned to the table triumphant– two plates full of peaches, oranges, and pineapple.

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