For those who have never lived in the hood, it isnt that much different from your own neighborhood. We have our nosey neighbors, the loud guy across the street or even the lady with 100 cats.
What is different in the hood form the rest of the world is how people go about doing thing, everyday common sense things.
There are far to many of an example to rattle off in one sitting so I have decided to devote a article theme to chronicling them as I run across them.
So, whit out further adue. The first installment of Tales from the Hood.
My local chinese restaurant is quite the interesting place. It is not everyday that you come across a chinese joint with bullet proof glass, much less one who also has a "spanish" menu to bout. My curiosity must have gotten the better of me on the way home form the local ghetto mart, a popular supermarket chain that can be found in almost any hood in the north east. Anyway, after looking at the menu I decided to opt for the "Chickin Sanduwit", as I tried to order it became pretty apparent that the old chinese grandmother was unable to speak english. While her lack of english fortitude was not surprising, that fact that she then reached out in spanish to try to take my oder took me back just a little.
With my order in, I stood there and watched the lady do her kitchen magic. While my filet lay there frying, I watched the lady go though her secret recipe of fried rice. The fired rice was made not of white rice, but rather of yellow "spanish" rice mixed with about a half ounce of chinese chao sui pork; oddly delicious looking. Next she turned attention to my sandwich. After applying the layers of chicken, tomato and lettuce, the old lady then proceeded to grab a piece of american cheese. Wondering how she was to melt it, she looked at the salamander then turned away, this would not do it fast enough. Then out of no where she pivots her body and turns back to the fryer. With one hand extended she dunks the cheese in the hot fryer oil and then moves the multon dripping substance towards the sandwich, upon which she say, "queras salsa de soi?". Maybe it was the look on my face but she said no more and packet it in a bag and handed it to me. I dont think she really knew it was the fact that she had just dipped her hand in a fryer to save 10 seconds of time in the cheese melting endeavor rather than wondering what I would need soy sause for a chicken sandwich that had cough me off guard....
