Last night I had the pleasure of dining out with my mother
before she takes off on yet another voyage out of this country, just in time to
not have to vote. I don’t know that that is a specific reason for her exodus,
but I have some suspicion. She has the ability and the means to leave home for
travel quite often, something I hope for myself someday.
She suggested a little place called Mai Village on the
corners of Western and University in St. Paul. I had never heard of it, but apparently,
it was the place to be before the light rail. I left the Xcel Center after
working the 8-4 prep shift and walked to the Science Museum ramp where I park
my car, and headed that way.
We met in the parking lot after I circled the block a second
time after missing my turn, and we discovered that Mai Village was closed for
Halloween. It’s not uncommon to find an Asian restaurant on University, so with
a simple 90 degree turn of our heads, we located another, and walked over.
Little Szechuan Hot Pot is much more appealing on the inside
than on the out. We walked in and saw one table seated and eating which
appeared to be made up of all employees. We were greeted by a Mexican man who
tried to explain to us a menu written in Chinese. We glanced at each other; we
did not understand. There was an all-you-can-eat option as well as an
a-la-carte menu. We were given some time to peruse the two menus which were
equally difficult to understand, and we waited for the Mexican to come take our
Chinese order in English. We opted for the all-you-can-eat option because we
are, well, American, and because we couldn’t order from both menus.
We got busy circling familiar words on the paper carte du
jour and when the waiter returned, he noted that we had not filled out the type
of soup base that we wanted. He explained in broken English what the broken
English translated from Chinese on the menu said, and we reluctantly agreed on
a level one heat, beef flavor. I think. We may have ordered giraffe soup.
So quickly our hot-pot was brought to the table and put on
the center-of-the-table burner which the waiter explained and we turned on.
Almost immediately the rest of the food came out, which we could not cook until
the pot boiled. We waited. We waited…..
The pot started to bubble. It looked like a wicked brew of chilies,
oils, and stock. It literally looked like it was going to kill us. We ordered a
plethora of foods to dip including beef, lamb, pork belly, stupid fake crab
meat, udon noodles, winter melon, Japanese pumpkin, seaweed, and so much more.
I put in a few slices of beef and lamb and took them out in
about two seconds. It was sliced thinly, so it didn’t need much cooking. The
flavor was intense, the heat was blistering, and the spice was mouth-fucking.
My overall love for all food overrode my intolerance for heat (temp) and I was in
heaven. I sampled a few more items, varying the cooking times based upon the
ingredient. Japanese pumpkin is something you surely must try someday, it was delectable.
My little octopi curled up and swam to the top to tell me they were ready to
eat, and I obliged their desire to feed me.
The udon noodles are what started the decline. They came in
brick form, frozen, so they needed to soak for a few minutes, until the
concoction started to bubble again. I tried desperately to get them out with
the slotted ladle—the only other tools on the table other than our chopsticks—which
took me more time than I cared for. When I finally wrestled a fair portion on
to my waiting plate, I made the mistake of shoveling a chopstick’s full into my
mouth. The burn was the first feeling. I gasped which took the spice straight
to my lungs which made me cough the noodles out. This was all followed by a
series of choking maneuvers I haven’t performed since I nearly drowned in the
Cayman Islands. I was now in a bind; my tongue was scorched, and the peppered
brew had now made me tear-up, and there was only one napkin at my disposal.
Why do these places only give you one napkin? Well, my mom
saved the day and brought over a stack and I blew my nose like I was suffering
from a terrible cold. I
needed to act, but I waited for my noodles to cool down first. Every noodle was
the most slippery little son of a bitch I’d ever encountered and it took me a
solid 15 minutes to wolf-down a few bites. My mouth was on fire, and I could
feel a storm fermenting inside me. We both agreed that we had done enough
damage to our personal buffet, and we waited patiently for our waiter to
attend, but he was busy ten feet away playing on his smart phone. I had to
stand up after sever verbal attempts to attract his attention, including the
old fake cough. Finally, we paid and exited.
We said our goodbye’s and I got in my car and drove away.
That’s when the fermentation process was concluded, and a force I hadn’t felt
since my bout with Salmonella
overcame me: I needed to shit right now. Of course, this happens every now and
then in life; you’re as far away from a bathroom as you can be, and it’s rush
hour traffic. Oh, I also decided to rename rush hour. It’s now called stupid
idiot hour, full of jerks. I missed every opportunity to make a green light,
and the pressure behind the wall (my anus) was mounting. At a stoplight about
two miles from my house, the first knock came. I had to arch my back and
contort every muscle in my body to focus on keeping the slurry inside. Sphincter-1,
God-0. Round two came shortly after, this time while driving. I realized then
that I may have to make the decision to shit in my pants, or on the side of the
road. I again contorted my body in a fashion that, if somebody had looked
through my window at that moment, I may have appeared to resemble Stephen
Hawking. I was no longer in control of anything but my butt. The second wave
passed, and slowly faded back to an acceptable level. Twice more before I made
it home, I thought I would have a story that I would never tell, but alas, I
made it home, and made it upstairs for the final solution.
I don’t need to get into any more graphic details but if you’ve
been there, you know my pain. I went well over my allotted number of words for
this post, but I thought it was necessary, and I hope you felt it.
