Wings When I Wanted Korean Food

Who do I have to #%$! to get gyoza around here?!!

For the past week or so, I haven’t been able to get what I really wanted to eat.

I went off my diet back in early Feb. to get a writing assignment done in record time. Several writing assignments.

We’re moving in a few days. So that too.

Nothing I have eaten has been remotely good: bland, dish watery tofu soup, shitty basil-intensive voodoo fries to go with revolting cadaver wings, and now, this.

All of a sudden I have to turn around an entire magazine layout in PDF form without any ability to comment on or edit it from my desktop — in 15 minutes (I took the rest of tonight) — with nothing good to eat in our half-empty makeshift kitchen.

My husband and son have eaten nearly everything remotely edible. They’re off doing their own thing. My son went out with his friends, promising to get me gyoza from a nearby ramen place. They never made it in time, so they went to IHOP. When I asked if maybe he can pick me up a chocolate shake at McDonald’s, he snap-chatted back, “maybe, I’ll try,” like I was asking him for blood diamonds in South Africa.

Earlier on Monday, all I wanted was some decent Korean food, preferably at Mama’s Kitchen up in Bellevue, a little farther away than Renton, where we currently reside in our rabbit hutch rental. But my son wanted Wingstop to go with the fried mozzarella sticks I made him.

Mama’s Kitchen would’ve been sweet redemption after this past weekend’s fiasco. I thought I’d be considerate and have my husband go somewhere closer to pick up my precious tofu jigae. He didn’t protest. Off he went, and came back with the worst Korean food I ever tasted. Taste is a relative term for what this dishwater piece of shit was.

Tonight, I wished I had something better than leftover pizza, voodoo fries, and teriyaki chicken. Like, say, Popeye’s fried chicken sandwich.

Or a simple, goddamned chocolate shake.

Tomorrow, I’ll go back to starving myself on brussels-sprouts and eggs, where it’s safe.

Hopefully, one day soon before I die, I’ll get to eat something good.

PS. This just in! My loving son felt so sorry for me that he went to Jack in the Box drive-thru for a small vanilla shake. Cracker in the desert!

Originally published at https://carolbankswebercoggie.wordpress.com on February 25, 2021.

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