As I have mentioned, some days I cannot force myself to go to breakfast. On those days Big Daddy brings something back to the room. This morning as BD was sauntering back to the elevator he was distracted by the guy screaming on his cell phone with noodles hanging from his chin. The little elevator clerk (her job is to punch the up/down button) was running after BD and calling, "Mr. David, Mr. David." That is not BD's name, that is what she has always called him. "You forgot Missy" she told him. BD was looking around for me I guess, when the clerk told him, "Missy is hungry." He had forgotten to get me any food.
It pays to be popular. And Missy is not my name, she called me by my real name. I guess it is better than the other hotel that called him Mr. Damn-it.
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
If China is this much different, it makes you wonder what the people on Mars are like - maybe French-ish?
ReplyDeleteDare I ask what you eat for breakfast in that part of the world?
ReplyDeleteUsually banana bread with French or New Zealand butter, fresh fruit and real coffee from an expresso/capuccino maker. Not the case in all the hotels. Sometimes you just make do with an omelet and some salad. Big Daddy has the soup noodle bowl with greens and sushi. But if you pick out the rice cakes and the wontons you get 2 bowls because it is bad luck to mix them.
ReplyDelete