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Chapter 23
Thane
“So what do you order?” I ask Faye, looking at the overly complicated menu.
“I get the meatballs.”
“Okay, now this is just getting weird.”
“What do you mean?” she questions me, setting her menu down.
“You said this was Vietnamese soup, what place do meatballs have in any of that.”
“Would you stop bitching?” she calls me out, and frankly, it turns me on. Setting my menu down I tell her, “You can order for me, ‘cause apparently, you know best.”
Just then the waitress walks up and sets our drinks down and what looks like a tray of grass. My beer looks so good that I take a swig of it, needing to get drunk to make it through this meal.
“What can I get you two to eat?” the waitress ask us.
“I’m gonna have the meatball pho, and he’s gonna have the number fifty-seven.”
What the fuck is that?
But I can’t figure it out as she takes our menus and walks off to place our order.
“So what, is that like code for something?” I ask her.
“No, it was on the menu. Didn’t you see most of the items were numbered?”
“No, I didn’t notice, I was a little preoccupied with all the meatballs and boba talk.”
“You wanna drink?” she asks me, sipping a huge blue ball into her mouth through her straw.
“No, thanks. I’d prefer to keep blue balls as far away from me as possible.”
She slurps another one through her massive clear straw, and I can’t help but cringe watching her chomp down on it.
“So be honest, you really only like this place ‘cause of all their balls, huh?”
She rolls her eyes as the waitress sets down our steaming hot soups. Looking down at the raw meat, I realize, I’ve been juked.
“Can I get you anything else?”
“No, we’re good.”
“You might be good,” I mumble under my breath and Faye giggles.
“You know how to use chopsticks, big guy?”
“Yes, I know.”
“Well, get ‘em out and stick your meat into the broth.”
“My meat’s not going anywhere near that broth.” She laughs and slams her fist on the table.
“Not your meat, that meat, silly.”
Taking my chopsticks, I push the meat down and watch the pink disappear; the broth is so hot it cooks it. Watching Faye squeeze all sorts of crap into her soup and tear blades from the grass that’s on the table, I just follow what she’s doing.
