This afternoon, I decided to take a break from writing my one billionth (seems like) article on car repair, home renovation and criminal law to go to Target and buy some toilet paper. We were literally down to our final roll, which, if you live with a Schmoobles, is FRIGHTENING. Anyway, driving along the main road from our condo to the shopping center, I passed by one of those business-front signs that displays the time and current temperature, and as I drove by at 12:30 in the afternoon, the temperature read "7" followed by a "9." AND THERE WASN'T EVEN A "1" IN FRONT OF IT!!! Praise Jeebus, hallelujah!
So to celebrate, I also stopped by the brand new little bubble tea shop that opened across the street and got myself a $3 taro boba milk tea. That store used to be this great little family-owned hole-in-the-wall sushi place that was run by this older legit sushi chef who barely spoke English. He was awesome. And it was one of only three restaurants in town I can think of off the top of my head that was not Mexican, American or fast food.
Everytime Schmoobs and I went in, the chef/owner would insist on making us an entire specialty roll on the house. After we had already gorged on the food that we had over-ordered to begin with. And of course we felt obligated to stuff it down so as not to disrespect. I think he did that because they sadly got so little business that he was appreciative of ours. Also, I'm sure, because I am Asian. I remember always saying to Schmoobs, "I love it, but they really need to watch that. They might not be able to afford giving us free food everytime." And then, of course, I drove by earlier in the summer and they had gone out of business. Sad.
But then a couple months later, a sign came up that said that a bubble tea place was opening. Yay! I was secretly hoping it was the same family, but I don't think it is. But I don't know. They all look the same. Hahaha. (I CAN SAY THAT BECAUSE I'M ASIAN.) Anyway, so I waltzed in to the bubble tea store today to be met with a completely empty store save for one nice quiet Asian lady looking hopeful behind the counter, and a young Asian kid (son?) sitting at one of the back tables with a lap top. And because I sometimes don't filter everything that comes out of my mouth, I bounded up to the counter and too-cheerily asked, "So! How's business?!" as if we were old friends or something (maybe our ancestors were, who knows). And the nice quiet little Asian lady probably thought, "What is this person?"
Anyway, I ordered my boba milk tea even though I wish I could have ordered twenty of them while leaving a hefty tip. But I am poor and under-employed and making my living beating freshmen into submission with my copy of the Kostka-Payne and writing inane articles about alternator repair.
And then, after guzzling down 3/4 of my bubble tea, I realized that I had completely forgotten to ask for a soy substitute. Good thing I bought more toilet paper at Target.
So to celebrate, I also stopped by the brand new little bubble tea shop that opened across the street and got myself a $3 taro boba milk tea. That store used to be this great little family-owned hole-in-the-wall sushi place that was run by this older legit sushi chef who barely spoke English. He was awesome. And it was one of only three restaurants in town I can think of off the top of my head that was not Mexican, American or fast food.
Everytime Schmoobs and I went in, the chef/owner would insist on making us an entire specialty roll on the house. After we had already gorged on the food that we had over-ordered to begin with. And of course we felt obligated to stuff it down so as not to disrespect. I think he did that because they sadly got so little business that he was appreciative of ours. Also, I'm sure, because I am Asian. I remember always saying to Schmoobs, "I love it, but they really need to watch that. They might not be able to afford giving us free food everytime." And then, of course, I drove by earlier in the summer and they had gone out of business. Sad.
But then a couple months later, a sign came up that said that a bubble tea place was opening. Yay! I was secretly hoping it was the same family, but I don't think it is. But I don't know. They all look the same. Hahaha. (I CAN SAY THAT BECAUSE I'M ASIAN.) Anyway, so I waltzed in to the bubble tea store today to be met with a completely empty store save for one nice quiet Asian lady looking hopeful behind the counter, and a young Asian kid (son?) sitting at one of the back tables with a lap top. And because I sometimes don't filter everything that comes out of my mouth, I bounded up to the counter and too-cheerily asked, "So! How's business?!" as if we were old friends or something (maybe our ancestors were, who knows). And the nice quiet little Asian lady probably thought, "What is this person?"
Anyway, I ordered my boba milk tea even though I wish I could have ordered twenty of them while leaving a hefty tip. But I am poor and under-employed and making my living beating freshmen into submission with my copy of the Kostka-Payne and writing inane articles about alternator repair.
And then, after guzzling down 3/4 of my bubble tea, I realized that I had completely forgotten to ask for a soy substitute. Good thing I bought more toilet paper at Target.
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