One of the brilliant things about living in the same place for such a long time is having the advantage of knowing where to get the best take-out from. I moved house and subsequently suburb nearly 12 months ago now, and it has only just been recently that I think I have it just about down pat the best places to go for those take out cravings. The problem however, is not the act of getting take-out, it’s what it represents; the stigma that still surrounds single/divorced/too-busy-to-be-bothered-to-cook-people.
Personally, I think it’s great. After spending all week coming home from work and eating left overs, or making a huge mess with not always satisfying results, you can, for a certain price, get someone else to make a mess in their kitchen, and yet you still end up with delicious food! And while this is all good and great and my Peking dry chilli beef is always amazing, it’s that stigma that gets me every time.
Whenever I get that take-out craving, I venture from within my house, usually clad in track pants, blue ugg boots and no bra, I personally like to forget my appearance and shake my head in silence at the other patrons waiting for their order. I know I shouldn’t judge, but the guy with the balding head, side burns and reading a book must be some kind of IT guy living alone, possibly with or without cats. I can’t help it. I know I am a terrible person, but you, yes you lady with the kid who is licking the inside of the restaurant door, preventing people from coming inside, should really think about all the preservatives and MSG they put in this food. There is nothing more important than your child’s health, right?
And I know, in all honesty that people probably look at my in the same kind of way. The staff from the restaurant were probably the ones judging me that one week where everything really wasn’t going my way, and I may or may not have been twice in the space of two days. Peking dry chilli beef really is that amazing, trust me on that one. And I know people probably look and me, with my blue ugg boots and track pants and think, ‘hey, that chick must not own a mirror cause she needs to sort some shit out.’ But you know what, at the end of the day, I don’t really care. For all they know, I could be on my way to the hairdresser to get my hair done for a fancy do. Or have just got back from an amazing trip overseas and these were the only clean clothes I have. Or, that I am recovering from some disease and have been in bed for the last six months. Who knows? And I guess that’s the brilliant thing about people’s perception, majority of the time they are wrong. And so maybe, just maybe next time I see the guy with the balding head, sideburns and reading his book, I might just smile and say hi, ‘cause you just never know.
2 comments:
Peking dry chilli beef - sounds amazing, but there is no recipe?
Feed me!
I realised the other day when I was at work on a saturday night that I often serve people who are there by themselves. I would never go to a video shop by myself on a saturday night, because I would think everyone would think I was a loser, and then I'd feel like a loser. But the thing is, I rarely notice that someone is hiring movies by themselves, and I often forget that it's saturday night. I mean, I'm at work, it's not like my life is particularly exciting at that moment either, you know?! I think people very rarely look at someone doing something by themselves and think "yes, your entire life is like that". Most of the time you presume they really do have friends, they just happen to by alone at the moment.
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