Chinese Fire Drill

Occasionally we like to live dangerously.  Saturday night we took the family out to dinner.  Feeling a bit roguish we even went out to a "nice" restaurant - the China Buffet.  We designate a restaurant "nice" if they use real utensils.  Yes, our bar is exceedingly low.

We also like the Buffet because it is non-stop action - and, in most instances does not involve our family.  It is probably one of the few places in the world where other families are crazier than ours.  It's like a very dysfunctional version of dinner and a show.

A few years ago we made an interesting discovery at the China Buffet.  At that time the R.A. was still allowing us to sit him in a high chair, albeit grudgingly. (Those days were magical as we could actually eat a meal without having to sit perched on the edge of the booth because someone was trotting back and forth behind us, occasionally punching us in the back.)  So anyway, there we were, enjoying our meals when halfway through, a group of young Chinese men came in and were seated at a nearby table.  They were speaking animatedly in Chinese.  Upon hearing them the R.A. twisted his little body around to face them.  He himself became quite animated.  It was almost as if he understood their conversation and was getting a real bang out of it.  A couple of times after one of the young men said something, the R.A. would turn to us, throw his hands up and make a comment.  It was as if he were saying, "Can you believe he said that?"  The young men finished their meals before us (we weren't done completely trashing our table - we still had to break the dishes and set fire to the napkin holder) and as they made their way to leave, the R.A. tried to pull himself out of the high chair, as if he were heading out with them.  He became quite upset and keened after them.  It was as if he were heartbroken at being left behind.  I admit I was a little insulted.  I mean we're not that bad.

Later on I thought about that incident and believe I know what happened.  Remember that he is a Reluctant Astronaut and not wild about his mission here.  Part of his problem is that I think he had a lousy intelligence officer.  I hypothesize that guy was lazy and when conducting his research on Planet Earth first came across billions of people speaking Chinese and that concluded his research.  He was like, "This is the language on Earth."  So that's what the astronauts learned.  Then when the R.A. was sent here he was like, "What the hell?"  In the restaurant that night the R.A. was overjoyed to finally understand what somebody was saying.

Back to Saturday night.  If you have read enough of my blog entries you know that our nights out are not without their challenges.  This particular night we did make the requisite pre-dinner McD run and the R.A. was furious not to be given the french fries right there in the drive thru.  When we finally made it to the restaurant the R.A. decided he wasn't thrilled with the actual dinner destination and refused to get out of the car.  Once we got him out of the car he refused to walk and demanded that my husband carry him.  As always the good and faithful servant, my husband obliged.  Keep in mind, this is what happened before we even entered the restaurant.  As a testament to our dimwittedness we soldiered on.

Once we finally made it into the restaurant and were seated, we carefully arranged the white napkin, fries, and ketchup.  After which the R.A. promptly refused to have anything to do with them.  For some reason, that night, they were a total affront to his personal convictions.  On the one hand my husband and I were a bit panicked about this rejection.  It could spell disaster for the actual dinner portion of the night.  On the other hand we had persevered through the whole car and parking lot thing.  I mean what would have happened if the Donner Party had turned back.  Oh, wait....  Anyway, we decided to stay.  Sometimes  we don't just throw caution to the wind, we shoot it out of a cannon and then drive a steam roller over it.

We get our plates and start to eat - really, really, really fast because we know we are on borrowed time.  The R.A. is alternating between standing in the booth and jumping in the booth.  He is also turning to face behind him and flicking his fingers on the top of the booth, like a crazed bongo player who has suck rhythm but a lot of enthusiasm.  We feel quite badly for the people sitting on the other side of the booth and several times demand that the R.A. sit on his bottom.  Which he does for precisely 8.7 seconds.

Finally my husband discovers that we are sitting wrong.  Usually the R.A. sits facing in the other direction.  Obviously he is thrown off by the cataclysmic shift.  Annoyed I point out it was actually the R.A. who selected the seats for the evening so it's not my fault.  It's his.  Obviously my husband's blood sugar was in a better place because he rationally noted that it's nobody's fault.  Naturally this annoyed me.  A spirited discussion might have ensued about who was at fault had not the R.A. then began to sneeze repeatedly over the booth at the other family at which point my husband attempted  to pull the R.A. into a seated position to sneeze on our food instead.  As you can imagine, the R.A. was not down with that idea.

"What should we do?" I hissed.

"We could switch our seats around.  Then we'd be in the right spots," suggested my husband.

"What?  You mean now, in the middle of the meal?" I was incredulous.  Despite the fact that "insane" is my family's "normal" even I thought this was around the bend.  We both surveyed our table which was full of dishes, glasses, and silverware.  But then the R.A. lunged up like a demonic Jack in the Box and that sealed the deal.

"Okay.  Let's do it," I said.

And that's how we conducted a Chinese Fire Drill in the middle of the China Buffet.  My poor daughter was moved in mid-bite.  Those nutty actions are business as usual in her world.  Without a peep and with fork in hand she switched to her new seat.  My husband and I re-arranged the dishes, glasses, and silverware and sure as Bob's your uncle, we popped into our new places.  Within ten minutes of doing this, the R.A., exhausted by his dinner time workout, began to doze off.

When the waiter came to check on us he did look momentarily confused.  I'm certain he attributed it to some stupid American peculiarity.  Oh, if he only knew.