Chopstick-Fed Peking Idiot

I sat in a small restaurant in the southernmost district of Beijing. There was a food rating on the wall: C. With a fat, yellowed, sad-face emoji. Chinese people parted around me and my luggage as Jennifer, the woman who’d recruited me to come work in Beijing, stuffed a vinegared cucumber into my mouth. “Foreigners are terrible at chopsticks,” she told me. I chewed. I wanted to say to her that I wasn’t terrible at chopsticks, that I was pretty good actually, but, of course, I couldn’t: my mouth was full.

* *

Thanks for reading!

Comment any theme, topic, prompt, or picture and I’ll write a story about it with credit to a blog/social media of your choice. 

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s