Those Aren't My Egg Rolls

By Patricia White

     After a grueling late afternoon Doctor’s appointment I dove into the five-o’clock traffic and headed north for home. Dinner was the last thing I wanted to think about but I knew it would soon be six bells and someone would be hungry. I decided Chinese take-out would be a welcome change to my head-of-household. The search was underway. My head swung from left to right as I scanned each shopping center for a restaurant where I could quickly pick up something for dinner. A place called Blue Iris caught my eye. The neon sign flashing, CHINESE beckoned.  I cautiously negotiated my way across three lanes of slow-and-go traffic and exited the freeway onto the service road into the almost empty parking lot and into a spot right in front of Blue Iris' door. This should be easy breezy, I thought.  No crowd, no wait, and my mouth began to water.

     The restaurant was empty at the almost dinner hour and the owner immediately came forward to assist me.  I placed an order for Sesame Chicken, Shrimp-Fried Rice and two egg rolls, to go.  The soft spoken  gentleman asked me to have a seat on the blue vinyl sofa.    He took my order to the kitchen and scurried right back to the sofa with a glass of complimentary iced tea; he assured me my food would not take long.  As I sat sipping the tea, my stomach began to make a noise.  I wondered if I had made a mistake ordering Chinese food.  Thinking back, my tummy had been talking to me all afternoon.  It was too late, the food was ordered.  In five short minutes, my food was presented to me in two  brown paper sacks.  I stood from the couch,  accepted the warm packages, rendered my Visa card and was on my way.  I walked out of the door onto the sidewalk and my tummy began to roll again. I felt the sudden urge to relieve this rumbling in my lower contutriments I looked around the store front.  Not a soul in sight or earshot, but I still opted for the privacy of my car where I would be alone.  I did not want to share this with the world. My little white Honda was my refuge in the storm. I jumped in, closed the door and the thunder rolled.
      I was digging frantically for my keys as I caught a glimpse, out the corner of my eye, of someone walking out of the restaurant carrying a small brown sack in his hand heading for the parking lot. God, please, no, not my car, I prayed.  I looked at the empty parking space on my left and my right and knew, the bag tolls for thee.   As I inserted my keys into the ignition, there was a tap on my window.  The brown-bag bearer’s small face seem to magnify as he pressed up against my window, holding up the small brown bag. “You egg rolls,” he said.   

     I was not ready to open the window. I shrugged my shoulders and said, “I changed my mind, I don’t want them.”

     “You must take, you pay for them,” he pleaded with a smile.

     “I-don’t-like-egg-rolls,” I said, slowly forming each word with my lips.

     “Bery, bery good egg rolls,” he chanted in a high-pitched tone.

     “Put them on top, I’ll get them later,” I shouted through the still closed window. 

     “What?” he said, as he put a hand to his ear.

     At that instant, I contemplated crawling over the shift stick on the floor, exiting on the passenger side and walking around the car to get the egg rolls. This man with the bald head and beady eyes was not taking no for an answer. My stomach growled.  I was about to burn another hole in the front seat of my new car.  My long straight skirt would not allow me to crawl over the console so I just sat for a second pondering the situation. There was another tap on my window…….. Confucius left me no choice. I reached for the electric window switch.  As the window lowered, he leaned forward.  His face melted, his eyes became small slits and began to water. He barely forced out the words, “You egg rolls.”  

     I snatched the bag and  told him to step back and take a deep breath. I threw some Mardi-Gras beads from my mirror out of the window to distract him. He grabbed the beads, placed them around his neck then sat on the curb with his head in his hands and wept. 

     Happy to leave that  place, I pulled out of the shopping center and eased up to the corner where an old man with long hair sat on a box with a bucket of Roses in front of him. I rolled down the window and asked if he’d had dinner. He shook his head, no. I tossed the bags out to him.

     “It’s Chinese, take-out, you’ll love it. Especially the egg rolls.” He smiled.

     I eased back into the traffic and  headed home. I called Mr. Leblanc to let him know I was on my way and to ask if he wanted anything special for dinner. He suggested I stop and pick up Chinese at a new place he’d heard about called, Blue Iris. There was a long pause on my end…..Then he cracked up laughing and said they’d just called the house and said I’d forgotten my credit card there. How could I go back? Ever!!!! I had to get my card. I’d explain about the other issues when I got home. At the next turnaround, I put on my sunglasses, tied a scarf around my head and headed back to the scene of the crime.

     As I entered Blue Iris, Confucius said, “You back. My eyes still burning.”

     I said, “Yes, to get my credit card. Sorry. And, you forgot my Fortune Cookies.”

     He said, “You don’t need no cookies. You fortune very clear, white lady. Stay away from Blue Iris.”

     I said, "Remember, behind every cloud is another cloud.” (*Judy Garland)

     He handed me my credit card and tossed a handful of Fortune Cookies at me as he waved me out. He threw his head back laughing as the Mardi Gras beads jangled around his neck.