The Village Wok...

Since last June, I have been working at the Village Wok. Some of you have eaten here or at least know about it - after all it's been around since the '70's. It has been/is an experience.

This was my interview:
"Can you work until 2am?"
"Yeah, totally"
"Alright, I'll call you tomorrow. You can start on Monday"
"Awesome"

Seriously. That was it.

My coworkers are pretty much always hilarious. There's Carlos, the Ecuadorian fry-cook who asks me to marry him at least 20-50 times every time we work together. There's Fran the buff-asian dude who's 45 but doesn't look a day over 28 and calls me a dumb bitch at least 20-50 times a shift, but then later buys a smoothie for us to share and sends me stupid "funny" fwd emails. There's Jose, the busboy (man) who speaks no English and I try desperately to understand him (when I don't and he laughs it makes me think he's saying something dirty, which he probably is). The list goes on and on... Needless to say, I come home with stories every night.
Such as:
There's a girl with huge tits at some table and I say to Jose in spanish, "You like those? The big ones?" He replies, "I like them all. And small ones, so I can fit them in my mouth." Wow. Okay then.
Or:
"Fran? What are you drinking?"
"It's your momma's pussy juice! I squeezed it last night..." He then proceeded to make a squeeky sound and a pinching motion.
And then:
Bang, the very tiny, very feisty cook, comes up to me and rubs my belly. "You have baby in there? Oh yeah, you need to eat! Eat lots of spicy food! Good for baby! When you due?"
"Bang! You're so mean! DO NOT call me fat!"
"Ha ha ha... when your baby due?! Ha ha ha!!!"
What a bitch...

I could keep going all day. Instead I'll save these tasty tid-bits.