I walked in way more comfortable than last time. Shirt sleeves wasn't around. There was a guy behind the counter working the grill. I'm not sure what language he spoke.
"The kebab," I said. "We'd like the kebab."
There were a lot of nods and grunts. He pointed at the grill. I nodded. He grunted. More pointing and nodding.
Shirt sleeves came out from the back room. I'm not sure if he remembered me or not, but it seemed like he did.
"Hi," he said. "How are you?"
"Good," I said. "We're getting the kebab."
Shirt sleeves said something to the grill guy, pointed to the grill, and then the grill guy nodded in a way that suggested I had been speaking about the moon and the tide and the way monkeys eat bananas from the end up.
"You take seat," said shirt sleeves.
We sat in my same spot under the tv near the window. Jason looked around at the cab drivers seated at the tables and the refrigerator listing in the corner.
"I dig the ambiance," he said. "It's exactly as I imagined."
We were only sitting for a couple minutes before they started to move the tables and stack the chairs. It seemed odd, but we held our ground until shirt sleeves came over.
"Excuse," he said. "Would you mind sitting at counter?"
We got up and settled in at the counter; Jason near the sneeze guard, and me next to the guy in the Kafiya talking on his cell phone and tapping into his laptop - probably something about his lower back and a return on Amazon.
Two piles of different colored chicken were cooking on the grill. We could smell the exotic spices. This was going to be good. Hot, fresh.
But the smell of amomnia soon began to waft through the air. And incense.
We turned around.
They were mopping the floor. And lighting incense.
And putting out large fringed rugs.
Large. Fringed. Rugs.
Ok...
Our food came. Some orange chicken. And some red chicken. Maybe it was Indian. Pakistani? Dunno. It was all delicious. LOTS of kick. The top of my head started to sweat...
Some naan came, and some onions, water - we were set.
Near the entrance I noticed a milk crate full of sandals. Men, who seemed to be piling out of the bathroom, sifted through them, pulled out a pair, took off their shoes, and slipped on some sandals.
And then they went to the rugs and sat down all criss cross applesauce.
Until they all suddenly stood up.
"Allahu Akbar!"
Jason and I froze mid-bite. Our thoughts were the same - can we keep shoveling food into our faces or are we going to cause an international incident?
"Dude," I whispered. "We are totally in Homeland."
The guy with the Amazon return was now raising his voice and tapping harder. It wasn't about the wrong size foam roller at all. He was calling in a drone strike.
The cabbie next to Jason - seeing our frozen forks - leaned in. "They are just doing their afternoon prayers. You can keep eating. It's ok."
Jason and I slowly resumed our gorging. The food - whatever it was - was DELICIOUS. But the cleansing solution and incense that hung in the air weren't doing it any favors.
And THAT is why I wouldn't go to Flaming Wok on Friday around 1:00.
Other than that, tops!
No comments:
Post a Comment