Moo-Shoo Nightmare & Spare Rib Sorrow

Two years ago, almost to the day, I was shot down by a cook at the Mandarin. Yes, Two years ago this week, I was stricken with food poisoning at the Queensway Mandarin. In an odd coincidence, two years later, my departmental Christmas lunch is being held at that exact same Mandarin.

A lot has happened in two years. I’ve switched jobs, moved out on my own, gone through two relationships, bought a new car, and became an official member of the Colombo mystery solvers club. A lot has changed for me, but the one thing that hasn’t changed is my fear of Chinese buffets. Is it shrimp, or is it chicken? You never know because they cover it all in sauce.

I hesitantly accepted the lunch invitation, in hopes that they’d change the location. Unfortunately, I am going to have to go to the Mandarin, and take on my second worst fear. I can only think about the Mandarin debacle aftermath. The cleanest way I can describe it would be to say I was burning the candle at both ends. Think about it for a second, then get back to me.

T minus two hours and it’s the moment of reckoning. If I come back a changed man, you’ll know why. Some people have a fear of flying. I have a fear of moo-shoo chicken.

Enjoy the holidays.

You’re not good enough for a card!

So, because I’m a festive guy, I like to give out Christmas cards to some of my coworkers. Now, I’m not the type of guy who slaps on a recipient name and a sender’s name. I’m the guy who throws in a personal message. Maybe the message is funny, or personal, or an inside joke, but in all cases, it’s personal and meant for the recipient. In an office of 200 people, of which, I work with 100, there’s only so many personal cards I’d like to write.

This year, I wrote and distributed 40 cards. 20% of the entire office got a card. That leaves 80% of the office cardless. While handing out my cards, some non-recipients asked me where their cards were. I could only reply by saying “I ran out”. My “Ran out” excuse has to be the worst excuse of all. But really, who asks for a Christmas card? I made sure everyone who wrote me a card received one in return, in addition to the people with whom I worked closely. I shouldn’t be obliged to give every person a card. They’re more like a prestige item. I would like my Christmas cards to one day become the “Beanie Baby” of the office. The type of stuff people get into fights over, and would sell their mothers for.

Ok, maybe I’m asking for a bit much here. But either way, if you get a Christmas card from me this year, you’re one of the lucky few. Cherish it and keep it in a box next to your bed.