I phone and place an order with my Chinese takeaway of choice, The Beijing. Half hour later I arrive at The Beijing to collect.
I inform the girl behind the counter of what I am here for. She goes through into the kitchen. She comes back,
not with a bag of delicious food, but a handful of little white notes and a sorrowful face that instantly tells me that all is not as it should be.
We go over the details again, but nothing. My order is nowhere to be found. Hungry and ever so slightly miffed the penny silently drops in my mind.
I am at the wrong place. Curse all those different menus that were being passed around so freely and unchecked. Curse them to hell!
I ask the girl to excuse me for a moment while I go outside to make a phone call. On my exit I feel the eyes of the other collectees as I pass them,
I hear every jiggle jangle of chimes as the door gently closes behind me. I slowly move myself out of view as I pretend to make that phone call.
I run. I don't look back. My mind racing. Where did I place that elusive order? Then it comes to me like a sickening bolt ... Cheung's!
Did I even have a Cheung's menu, if so why? I say to myself, please let it not be Cheung's. But it was, I knew that now. All hope was lost...
That night we fed on mediocre Chinese takeaway.
FMFWL
