Chasing Sharks: Faster Than the Speed of Awesome

I write important things about stuff
(Not really, this blog is mostly dick jokes)

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Crouching Tiger Hidden Batter.

When I was a junior in high school my mom and I stumbled upon this amazing Chinese restaurant.  They had egg foo young to die for and their crab rangoon literally gave me orgasms.  The place was that good.  So we would make an effort to go in there every few weeks because I obviously was on a mission to gain as much weight as possible so I could become completely unattractive to the opposite sex.

One day while my mom and I were waiting for our food the owner’s five year old son came running up to me with his arms outstretched.  Because I’m an asshole and have a lot of faith in the human race I reached down with a big smile plastered on my face ready to reward him with a hug.  Much to my surprise, instead of trying to hug me he instead started awkwardly grabbing my boobs.  He wasn’t really grabbing them, it was more like kneading.  Almost like he was playing with a ball of dough that had nipples.  “Is this how the Chinese perfect their crab rangoon making skills?” I wondered.

I was immediately filled with shock and confusion.  I was sad and almost wished my boobs would fall off so I could leave them there for him to play with and not have to be witness to this.  I looked towards my mom hoping she would be able to tell me what to do.  She had her hands cupped over her vagina in an effort to prevent herself from peeing.  She has a weak bladder and was laughing so hard she was obviously worried about soiling herself.  I thought about punching her, but was worried my boob would swing into the Chinese boy’s face and knock him unconscious.  Knowing my mom would be no help to me I turned to the boy’s father who was standing at the counter.  He was witnessing the whole scene and I assumed he would immediately put a stop to it.  Instead he stood there smiling and nodding his head like this was an every day occurrence.  Maybe he was even cupping his crotch like my mother, but for an entirely different reason.   ”What the fuck is going on here?” I thought.

My arms remained wooden at my sides as this child grabbed awkwardly at my boobs like a sixteen year old boy in the back seat of a station wagon.  What is the protocal in this situation?  Could I slap him?  Kick him in his balls?  Pick up his sixty pound body and throw him through a plate glass window?  I wasn’t really sure.  I’m not sure what he was thinking either.  Did he want me to be his girlfriend?  Did he do this to every woman who walked through the door?  Or did he think he was just giving me a mammogram?  My boobs were becoming numb and I knew action needed to be taken before I possibly became pregnant.  I pushed the boy away and ran screaming out of the restaurant.  My mom came out a few minutes later with our food and found me curled up in the backseat.

"Looks like somebody made it to second base today!" she said still laughing hysterically. 

"Why are you laughing?" I screamed.  "I was just violated!"

"Oh get over yourself!  He didn’t know what he was doing!" she replied.

About a month past and I was slowly starting to forget what had happened.  My mom was right he didn’t know what he was doing.  He was only five.  It was an accident and probably wouldn’t happen again.  That’s what I tried telling myself because I badly needed crab rangoon and was starting to go through withdrawal.  So I called in an order a few days later and went to pick it up.  As I was waiting nervously for my food the little boy appeared out of the mist like some kind of take out ninja.  I gasped and grabbed my boobs in self defense.  Again he came running up to me with his arms outstretched and AGAIN I naively thought “Oh, he just wants a hug!” So I leaned down and he immediately started honking my boobs like they were rubber ducks and it was bath time.  “Ah the tit rape,” I thought.  “I had almost forgotten!”  I stood there dumbstruck for a moment as he tried to grope me until finally my food was ready.  Than I pushed the boy to the ground, grabbed my food and fled.

This would happen every time I went in there for almost the next year.  I would be waiting there for me food and he would come running up to me practically foaming at the mouth at the sight of my boobs.  You’re probably asking yourself, “Stephanie why would you keep going there if this kept happening to you?” My answer: you don’t know my life! The food was that fucking good!  I had also become wary of the five year old and knew he no longer was seeking just hugs from me.  So whenever he would run up to me I would hiss like a wild animal than do a cartwheel in order to avoid his advances.  “You want a piece of me bitch?” I would scream. “Well come and get it!”  This tactic worked, if he couldn’t catch me he couldn’t grab my delicate boobs.  Also I think I had started to frighten him.

One day I came in to pick up an order and the little Chinese boy didn’t come running up to me.  He stared at me warily while perched on a stool behind the counter.  I wasn’t sure why.  Maybe it was because I was holding a shotgun and giving him the middle finder or maybe I had become unappealing to him after gaining 200 pounds from all that Chinese food.  But whatever the reason I knew I had won the battle.

Filed under Awkward Chinese food True Story Humor Creative Writing

  1. feelthemonster said: Oh Stephanie — I just *looked* Chinese.
  2. dorothypzbornak said: you never fail to make me lol at work
  3. stephjar posted this