Cheater Max ... or Food Court Folly.

I’ve recently realized I eat an inordinate amount at the Mall food court.
The realization came at Wal-Mart (of all places I think about spending too much time somewhere)
On Sunday evening in the parking lot of Wal-Mart, I saw the workers from China Max. They recognized me.
At the time I thought it was both cool and a little weird that workers from a food court restaurant would recognize me. How much time do I spend there? Am I unforgettable? How many times do I eat there? Do I have a life?
They probably think I work at the mall, even though I always enter through the outside doors before I being asked if I’d like to try a free sample.
But this isn’t about that weirdness. It’s about another weirdness.
And another Chinese restaurant; Koki’s Grill.
Koki’s, the new Chinese place in the food court, just opened and being an equal opportunity eater, I tried it, even after entering and having my friends offer me a free sample, presumably of orange chicken, which I declined as usual.
I liked it. And by it, I mean the food at Koki’s not the declining of the chicken.
But after eating at Koki’s, I had to pass by China Max, and be asked again to try a free sample, which made me uncomfortable; made me feel like I was doing something wrong. Something forbidden in the realms of fairness in relationships, and make no mistake, seeing the folks from China Max outside of China Max, made me feel like I knew them as more than restaurant workers serving me Bourbon Chicken and fried rice.
We have a relationship now.
I ate at Koki’s again today, and even though I’ve eaten at China Max in between the times I’ve eaten at Koki’s, I can’t help but feel like they know. And are judging me.
And I can’t help but feel bad when I walk past with my unfinished Coke dangling in my hands, China Max workers smiling hello or offering me a free sample, presumably of orange chicken, still friendly but in a stilted way.
I feel like I betrayed a friend.
Like I cheated.
Like I’ve done something wrong eating at a different restaurant.
This could all just be in my mind, but the guilt is real.
It won’t stop me from doing it again, because I really like the Black Pepper Chicken at Koki’s Grill. And China Max just doesn’t have Black Pepper Chicken. They have the Bourbon Chicken, which I like, too, but sometimes you just need a change. A little more spice.
That’s going to be my excuse the day they finally confront me.
“I’ll take the bourbon chicken.”
“No bourbon chicken.”
“Umm, I can see it right there.”
“No bourbon chicken for someone who’s been eating at the other end of the foodcourt.”
“What? What do you mean?”
“We see you walking by with your half full cup of Coke with no ice, still smiling at your fortune. What? Our fortunes not good enough for you?”
“No, you’re fortune’s are great, it’s not that, it’s just I wanted the Black Pepper Chicken.”
“We can make Black Pepper Chicken.”
“It’s not on your menu.”
“So you just run to someone else How do you think that makes us feel? We saw you at Wal-Mart!”
“This is crazy.”
“It is crazy, We thought we knew you, and your two item combo, with rice. But you’re a two item timer!”
“It’s just chicken.”
“You’re a jerk.”
And they’re right.
Why else would I feel guilty when I walk past?
Why else would I hide my half full dangling cup?
Why else would I be blogging about it?

Peace
Larry