Hong Kong Noodles Can Suck My Noodly Appendage!

Sean and I have heard racist remarks come out of the mouths of white people in regard to our marriage.

Hell, my own family has made remarks.

Whatever.  I’m used to my own family’s bullshit.  I’m used to white people’s issues. Fuck em.

It’s harder for me to face racism from Asians. I don’t know why, maybe because most Asians I know are very liberal.

Tonight marks the second time Sean and I have been openly disdained by Asians, in an Asian-owned restaurant.

We went to Hong Kong Noodle for the first time today. We sat down. I noticed after about ten minutes that no one was coming to take our order. People seated after us (a white couple) had their orders taken.  Then another couple got their order taken. And another. Both were seated to either side of us.

“Honey, it’s okay, it’s nothing.” Sean said, noticing my glower.

Finally, after about 15 minutes, our order was taken.

By now, the people around us have their food. We waited. And waited. From the time our order was taken until we got our food was about 40 minutes.  New groups were now seated. A group of four Asian students, a white couple, and another interracial couple were all seated around us. I noticed that the students and the white couple had their orders taken. The waitress was pretty passive aggressively nasty to the other interracial couple, though. When the white counterpart of the order told her what he wanted to drink, the waitress pretended not to hear him. He repeated himself. “FINE.”  When the Asian girl ordered, the waitress rolled her eyes at her and huffed when the girl paused to ask the boy what he wanted.

Maybe I was seeing things, right? I should give her the benefit of the doubt….

Oh wait, that group of students? They had their food already. The white couple? They had their food, too, even though both groups ordered a good ten minutes after we did.

By now I must have been giving my death glare*. Sean asked if I wanted to leave, but I said no. I was really hungry, and I didn’t want to give them any more reason to dislike us. Stupid, right? I shouldn’t have to prove that we are worthy of a little decency.

We got our food. It was…meh.  Our eel tasted less-than-fresh, and was burned. The chicken wonton soup?  Sean thought it was mediocre, while I thought it was gross.

Sean asked for boxes for our food. The waitress sneered like he had just asked her to show us her tits.

I don’t know what crawled up her ass. Was it the fact that we are a mixed couple? Was it the fact that Sean is Filipino? I did notice another Filipina in the restaurant, and she didn’t get very speedy service, either.

Whatever it was, fuck em. We don’t need to return.

The other place this happened was Sushi Tango, in Uptown. The waiter there acted like we were scum.

We won’t be returning there, either.

*I guess my normal sitting-around-look is pretty bad already. I had a former employer describe my glare as “A look that could curdle milk.” Another co-worker, whom I hated and evidently glared at, told my manager that I gave her chills. Unluckily for her, the manager was also a good friend of mine. I  made a point of glaring at the girl from then on. When I get my glare on, though…I once made a woman cross the street to avoid me! Ahahahaha. Nothing like the Indian Death Stare, I tell you.

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