Straight up Canton Style!

Merry Christmas! I know I'm a day late in creating a Christmas post but I needed time to digest some of the events that occurred yesterday. It was some of the most raw and unforgiving images of human savagery that I have ever witnessed. It reminded me of Lord of The Flies except all the stranded kids were Chinese. No... it was like watching Boyz in the Hood, I'm Gonna Git You Sucka, and the Coming to America all at once.

My family and I went out for dim sum for Christmas lunch. For all those not in the know, dim sum tends to be a brunch/lunch kinda thing. It tends to be consumed between the hours of 9:30 AM to 2:00 PM. Arguably, this could have been one of the factors that led up to the Cultural Plaza Travesty. (The restaurant we chose was in the Cultural Plaza in Hawaii.) For all those not familiar with Oahu, the Cultural Plaza is a collection of shops, restaurants, and offices that deal with all things Chinese; be it food, books, dance studios, salons, or Chinese societies with designs for world domination.

The second key factor that led up to the impending events is that apparently a LOT Chinese people go out for dim sum on Christmas. My guesstimate would fall around a metric shit ton. What else is there to do? Everywhere else is closed on Christmas Day. But not Chinese restaurants; which leads us to the third factor.

My people have capitalized on this once-a-year golden opportunity to be the only establishments open to those who want to eat out (tee hee) on their day off. I believe the only other eating establishment that was open was Jack in The Box. As much as I love eating at The Box (tee hee hee), I wouldn't consider it a restaurant. Restaurants tend to have service, a wait staff, a menu that isn't plastered on the wall, and table cloths (not always).

We walked into Empress Seafood at the Cultural Plaza around 11:45 and it was utter chaos: there were Chinese people milling and rushing about everywhere. This shit was straight up Canton Style!

The idea of a host that greets and seats the guests had been abolished. Whoever the host was was deemed incompetent by the masses or perhaps was scared off by the sea of humanity that descended upon the restaurant. People were rushing about, seating themselves. Families would hover over tables that were being cleared by bus boys or even families that were paying the bill. We were like hoodlums that hovered and leered over someone else's personal property. As soon as it was left alone, we yoinked. Yes, we....

We found a table that was recently vacated but not cleared and we circled it. A passing bus boy hurriedly cleared table and we sat down before another family could swoop in. As the bus boy removed the soiled table cloth, he asks if it's cool if he doesn't replace it with another. We're fine with it so he removes the old one, plops down some flatware (sets it down, not distribute it) and runs off to the next table. So much for service and a table cloth. That's how we do shit in teh 808.

Normally during dim sum, food e.g. dumplings and buns are brought out on carts that are equipped with some sort of warming apparatus that keeps the food warm as it takes it tour of the restaurant, sauces, oils, and a pair of scissors to cut the larger dumplings. Now imagine that this restaurant is an azn hood and these food carts are pimped out Escalades. These carts didn't make it 20 ft from the kitchen door. As soon as it rolled into the hood, it was swarmed by hungry thugs that stripped it of every bamboo steamer. Only the crappy dumplings were left and these are the equivalent of the AM/FM radio. It was crazy, the cart would be stripped in 30 seconds flat. Canton style, bitch!

Since the food carts couldn't keep up with the crowd, the restaurant started rolling out these makeshift carts to try to get food to the tables further from the kitchen. These carts were plain POS push carts with minimal stacks of bamboo steamers. There were no heating apparatus, no sauces, oils, or scissors. These stripped down carts reminded me of fixed up jilopies that roll through the hood. These are the Civics and Integras with wings, body kits, and a bondo-primer paint job. They might have an exhaust on it to give it that farty bass sound as it rolls past. All that was missing from these food carts were the owner's last names printed across the back in bold, old english letters.

By the time we were done eating, the masses has subsided; no one was hovering over our table and there were no longer people standing about the restaurant. Whew, relief! Or so I thought.

Where do you think they all went?

Probably to the same place we planned to go after finishing our meal w/ no where else to go.

To the parking garage.

We all know the stereotype of asian drivers all too well so I'm not gonna reiterate. It took an hour to get our of that parking garage - that's not an exaggeration. A whole freakin' hour to get down 5 levels of parking garage because everyone and their mother-in-law was trying to back out of their stall and get out. Unbelievable. I've gotten out of packed stadiums and arenas much quicker than that.

In light of all this, I think a true Christmas miracle occured yesterday. How else would you explain all those asian drivers maneuvering through such a confined space as a parking garage in Chinatown and there not be any accidents. Zero. Amazing.