Just another day at work can sometimes turn into a whole new way to look at the world, even if it’s a few years later.
The lights were dim, and there was a reddish hue to the dining room. It was usually fairly empty with the exception of a few tables, and haphazardly strewn about the place were bright parasails, ceramic cat figurines, and artwork depicting scenes of Asian countryside. Anywhere beyond the front counter, you could smell the vats of grease, but once you heard the warm comforting voice of “how many,” you forgot it all.
If this doesn’t sound familiar to you, then you really should check out your local Chinese restaurant. For me, this scene became a daily occurrence and not because I liked Chinese food. During the end of my junior year in high school, I had needed a job… badly, and having always loved the sweet taste of duck sauce, I figured I’d apply as a waitress. On the day I applied, I got the job and became the only non-Chinese, non-family member in the whole bunch.
It took a few nights to get into the swing of things, to figure out what went with the pepper steak and how lo mein was served. After a few tries though, things became pretty simple. Over time, I began to talk more and more with Xia, my boss, and the oldest son, Chang.
Xia was always excited to talk to me, and even though she was born in the United States (Cleveland to be exact), she still read a “Learning to Read English” book during the slow times. I figured the reason for the excitement was because it was difficult to keep a waitress. I only got hours on the weekend, and being the only non-family member could be a little odd.
Sometimes, I would speak to the customers more than anyone in the back. They often spoke only Chinese to each other, which could make things uncomfortable sometimes. They didn’t mean for it to be, and really, it was okay because they were all family members. There was always Xia and her husband, and sometimes Chang and his younger brother. And other times, the younger kids would be rolling wontons and watching cartoons in the back room. But because they all knew each other so well, it was a very inclusive group, one that didn’t seem to have room for an outsider like me.
I looked forward to these longer talks with Xia though. She would ask about my family. I would ask about hers. And she would explain to me why she ate her white rice in ice water – something that I still don’t understand.
Chang and I took a little longer to warm up. He cooked in the back with his dad and younger brother, and I was up front, but eventually, we had a few talks. This I liked, especially since most other members of the family ignored me, besides Xia.
Chang had to be a few years older than I was, and because I was just a little younger than he was, I’m fairly certain that he was even more excited than his mom that I was working there. I had sensed it for a while, but it finally hit me why he was so upbeat whenever he saw me.
It happened one day when I was taking the trash out back. He caught me in the kitchen, said hello, and he continued talking.
“So, Christie, have you ever cruised Gratiot?” he said, looking me in the eye.
My seventeen-year-old self was terrified with this insinuation. For those of you who are unfamiliar with Gratiot, it’s a main road by my house that goes right into Detroit. I had never cruised anything, let alone Gratiot. What did he mean? What was I supposed to say? Is something implied by cruising?
“Um, no, I can’t say I have,” I responded.
“Oh really?” He smiled widely at this statement. “Would you want to go some time? You can even check out my Honda out back. I got it all supped up.”
“Uh, yeah, maybe in a little bit. I really should get back to the front.”
I crookedly smiled at him, and I walked back up front. If there was a way to win the stereotype award, this guy did it, in more ways than just one. It was hands-down the funniest moment that I experienced at the restaurant, and really, I didn’t stick around for much longer. It wasn’t because of Chang though. It was working every Friday and Saturday night, and even though the family dynamics were a bit much sometimes, it wasn’t the reason.
I only worked at the restaurant for a few months, and in fact, it isn’t around anymore, but even though it was such a short while, I’m glad I did it. It probably wasn’t until a few years later that I really understood how important it was, me working there, having been the outsider for the first time in my life. And still, there are certain aspects of the job that have started to fade, but I know, working there allowed me to see this other part of my hometown, one that we drive by everyday but don’t think to notice.
*Image courtesy of Val Lyashov, stock.xchng