Week Seven

(Story One) Sunday afternoon I was invited to Hu Hot Mongolian Grill. After half a year of my parents bragging about how great it is but telling me I wouldn't like it, I finally got to go eat there. Beef, Chicken, Chinese Noodles, Green Bell Peppers, and Samurai Teriyaki sauce, that's all that was in my bowl. After watching a spectacular show of spatula flipping and noodle cutting in the center of the restaurant I got my food and sat down with some friends. I couldn't eat much because I'm an "Anorexic Son of a Bitch". I ate most of the cooked meat and a little bit of the noodles. It was delicious, almost exactly like the Udon noodles I had in Disney last year. The waiter, Joseph, was great, he was making us laugh and he was so nice. My parents obviously don't know me very well, I love most oriental foods, whether its fast food or restaurants, the only reason my parents would have a reason to think that I don't like it is the way I react to my moms cooking, not all of it, just her foreign cooking. After re-reading this, it's more like a restaurant review that a weekly story, oh well. (Story Two) Thursday evening I was sitting in the hotel window (Very Dramatically I might add) when I see a man down below on the streets fall over and my first thought was "Is he alright?" Someone on the street had seen it as well and called 911, shortly thereafter an ambulance arrived and picked him up. The paramedic had taken something from the man... it was in a paper bag and the medic dumped it into the storm drain... I wasn't feeling to bad for the guy at this point. A police cruiser showed up on the scene but I didn't see the man, I assume he was still in the ambulance being resuscitated.