Thursday, November 22, 2012
2 eggs over medium
I've been a recluse lately, it's Thanksgiving break and everyone has gone home. My hallway is empty, and in my room only I reside, along with the ghosts of Michelle's rickety, "ghetto" fan and other insentient beings.
Oh, and there's Blonde-and-Racist Hanna's goldfish, which I have been tasked to feed while everyone's on their break. I hate Blonde-and-Racist Hanna, she only looks for me when she needs a favor. Fuck you racist bitch.
I love this feeling of being alone after 3 months of having my senses overstimulated by noises and interactions with people I don't want to, and don't know how to entertain. Like Blonde-and-Racist Hanna. Or Ginger Hannah's disgusting crooning when she's on the phone with her boyfriend.
Last Sunday —
Her black straight hair, hanging down in a bob, shined as she turned and waited in line for the waffle machine. I tried to pretend like I didn't see her so if she caught my eye, we wouldn't have to make small talk. I cannot be bothered to make small talk with stupid people, but such is American culture – you pass somebody by, you smile and say, "How are you doing?" even if you don't really mean it. If somebody asks you how your day is going, you smile and say, "Good," and move on, even if you might be having the worst day ever. I bet that's why people looked at me strange in my first weeks of being here, when I would launch into a storytelling session of how I'd fallen off Michelle's bike when the Americans were merely using "How are you?" as a greeting. But I digress.
In the end I couldn't stand it, I have waited 15 minutes for my omelette and eggs and feared that somebody else might have seized them. Oh the horror! My omelette and 2 eggs over medium! How shall I survive without fulfilling my need for protein! The thought of my food being possibly stolen pushed me off my chair and to the counter where the plates of eggs are deposited, next to the waffle machine. It was only when I got to the counter that I remembered, and saw that Ji-hee was waiting for the waffle machine. But she turned around and saw me, and it was too late to turn back.
I gave a tight smile. "Hey, how are you?"
"How are you?" she says somewhat enthusiastically in response, the way Americans do when they appear all cheerful when they greet you. Um, hello, Jihee – you are Korean, stop trying to act like the Americans just cos you think it's cool and so you can fit in. I know it might seem preposterous to pick on this but I swear she's so annoying in wanting to behave like an American, and in more ways than this.
"I like, don't know how you're doing because I never see you around." There is a tone of reproach in her voice and an uppity glint in her eye.
Maybe it's because I don't want to hang out with you, I think to myself. But instead I make up an excuse, "Yeah, well, I have just been so busy with school lately. The professors dumped a whole lot of work on us right before the break so I had like a ton of papers to do. So." I shrug. In retrospect, I always punctuate my explanations with "so", like that explains everything.
She asks me if I'm leaving for Thanksgiving break and I say no, and ask her if she's staying on campus like I am. At this moment my mind goes pleasesaynopleasesaynopleasesayno and even if you say yes please don't say that "we should hang out sometime". To my relief, she says she's leaving with Rachel to New Jersey for the weekend.
At this point her plump and short roommate Rachel comes up to us and asks her a question, completely disregarding my presence even though we have been introduced before and have seen each other around quite a bit. I mean really, how hard is it to remember the face of an Asian girl who is forever in jeans and sweaters? Like, I'm the only one who dresses like shit cos I can't be damned. Is it really so hard to remember a girl that dresses like shit??? Seriously??? I hate Rachel. I hate Jihee.
Thankfully Ureka comes up to me just when Rachel leaves and chuckles, "Are your eggs still not done yet?!"
"I think somebody stole them–"
"Egg white omelet with tomatoes and mushrooms!" The kitchen lady continues screaming out orders and I spot the post-it pad containing my order tacked onto a plate with an egg white omelet. I grab it and quickly escape, squeaking to Jihee, "Okaymyfood'shere, bye!" I turn and walk off, and I don't even bother with returning her wave.
When I return to my table, I realized the bitch that is the kitchen lady did not fry me 2 eggs over medium, my other order.
—
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