I am incapable of using chopsticks, I feel really cack handed and manage to eat about two grains of rice per half hour when I try.
Working for a Japanese company, this could be career limiting, you might not think so, but imagine if a stranger from another land came to your dinner table and proceeded to lean forward, shoving his face in his plate and without using his hands or any utensil, started to trough like a sow whilst squealing and making contented grunting noises. This is how I imagine I am perceived when I ask for a big fuck off ladle to spoon my rice with in a Japanese restaurant.
Today I met a senior executive from our parent company and my first stupid mistake was to forget my business cards (a big no no). Luckily our meeting overran and I didn’t have to suffer the indignity of exposing my chopstick disability if we were to go to the local Japanese eatery, we had a working lunch so I took solace in the familiar comforts of an egg mayonaisse baguette, which I still managed to bollocks up eating. The last bit, the end bit, was slightly too big for one mouthful, I knew if I bit it in half, egg would have splurged all over my brand new shirt. So instead I opted for the “putting it all in my mouth in one go” option. Normally this is ok, I have a big mouth, once I got 4 whole digestives in vertically and there was room to spare, but I misjudged the docking procedure, so not only did I have a bulging mass of egg mayo and baguette in my mouth, but it started to ooze out of my face. My mouth, nose, ears, eye sockets, like some sort of virilent and fast breeding ebola virus, foaming and dripping all over the floor. I managed to wipe most of it away and dispose it before I was too humiliated.
So today’s Haiku is about my inability to use chopsticks.
Chopsticks defeat me,
My big clumsy monster claw,
Grasping at nothing.
1 comment:
Egg baguettes have got to be the most dangerous things to eat in polite company, you are a brave man! Having said that spaghetti has got to come a close second. When I was 17, I went to Oxford Uni for an interview for the PPE course and me & this sweetheart strawberry blonde boy were seated in the dining hall opposite two crusty old professors who were eating their spaghetti so messily, we couldn't stop giggling. Then we felt these hands on our shoulders and were gently escorted away to another table. I kid you not.
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