Aincent Chinese Secret

So last night I finally broke down and gave into the General Tso's Chicken craving that I've been having for like two weeks. I've been trying to eat healthier, so resisting this particular treat was in my best interest -- but even I knew I couldn't hold out forever. So I headed over to the surest bet in my neck of the woods, this tiny little place called "Quick Chinese."

Is it the absolute best take-out Chinese you
can get in this town? Who knows, probably not.

But unlike so many things in the Baymeadows area (where I live these days) it's an institution. Happy Woks and Asia Gardens might come and go, but Quick Chinese is forever. Which is a good thing, because the food friggin' rocks.

Anyways, I call ahead with my order so it will be ready when I get there (they don't deliver). When I get there the scene is the same as it always is. A line of people waiting and Seinfeld on the TV. Tell them your name, wait maybe a minute and then they hand you your stuff.

Best of all the prices are low, mainly because the place doesn't waste much effort on extras. You get your sauces, but you've got to ask for chopsticks. The other thing that comes from this cost-cutting mentality is that Quick Chinese doesn't make their own fortune cookies. I know a lot of places don't -- but once you find one that does (like they used to at Eddie's in Arlington before it closed), it's hard to go back to the pre-made ones wrapped in plastic.

All that being said, I about fell out of my chair when I opened up my fortune cookie last night.

Seriously, can they really get away with this?

What the hell am I supposed to do with this? Go back to the restaurant and use it like a coupon?

I mean damn, son -- that's just lazy.

The only explanation I can think of is that there's some guy in an office somewhere sitting at a computer who just hates his fortune cookie message-writing job, and every now and then he just boils over and types out something like "Who Cares, You're Not Going to Follow My Advice Anyways," "Stick With Your Wife," or "Joey, do you like movies about gladiators?"

If that's the case, I feel for you man. We all get tired of our gigs sometimes and wish we could be doing something else. Besides, it could be worse -- you could be writing TV commercials:

Either way -- don't take it out on the cookie, man.

That cookie didn't do anything to you.

[Listening to:  Lyn Collins - "Rock Me Again & Again & Again & Again & Again & Again" ]