Newark Airport

China Day 1

March 1, 2010

I promised myself I wouldn’t do this, but I fell for the cheap price and the free sample handed to me while I was staring aimlessly about the Newark airport foodcourt.  I ate Chinese food.  It was sold by a Chinese looking cook (except for the sliver loop earring), but was a poor bit of camo for American cuisine.  The fried rice was colored only a shade darker than the white rice and the shading I’m almost certain was just extra grease.  The vegetables were factory cubed carrots and wrinkled peas right from an industrial sized Bird’s Eye bag.  The chicken was salty, the broccoli florets mushy, and the green stalks impenetrable.   To compensate for making such a dumb mistake – who orders airport Chinese food before spending two weeks in China – I  ate it like an American.  I finished it all in less than three minutes.

Three menacing guys in red track jackets get in line for my flight.  One carrying a bag bearing a bumper sticker: “Canadians Kick Ass.”  I didn’t think Canadians were even allowed to think that.