【Recommend】Mr. Lee will bring a pistol to the restaurant tonight

[Giovano 10]

Three customers played slot machines lackadaisically when I came back from the food court. The air smelled like rotten fruit. The managers forgot to dispose of the fruit after they finished the ceremony August fifteenth. They could give those fruit to us, but they did not want to do that; they would rather leave the fruit there for two weeks. They sat and watched wide screen TV in the lobby because Otto and I took care of everything. I closed the secret door and gave Otto an inquiring look. When I turned to the bookkeeper, she just arched an eyebrow and rolled her eyeballs to her right side. I squinted in the direction she wanted me to see; a familiar guy sat in front of a slot machine. Otto looked like something was going to happen. He raised three fingers meaning we could go home at three o’clock in the morning. We all had the inauspicious feelings every night because not only did we work in a casino, but also because a casino was illegal in Taiwan .

Mr. Lee usually came at eight thirty every night since he lost eight hundred dollars two weeks ago. He continued loosing money every night; however, he still treated us very nice. When we served him a cup of coffee, he gave us 5 dollars. The payoff was easy money to a college boy, and it was the reason we were here. I did not see any difference in his face tonight when I came to him. He turned to me and smiled. I immediately thought Otto was over reactive.

The bookkeeper waved me back to the front desk anxiously. I had to approach and bend my back until I could hear her whispers. She said, “Mr. Lee will bring a pistol to the restaurant tonight!” I suddenly realized what Otto worried about.

I looked at the clock on the yellow stained wall when I sat up on my bed the next morning. It was ten thirty; I was hungry. Before I figured out what I heard last night, the phone rang. I could hear the voice of Otto on the phone was trembling. He asked, “What do you think?” I really could not say a word. I finally squeezed out some words, “We eat first! Burger Queen, at Twelve. Don’t let me wait. ”

Burger Queen was the favorite place we frequented to enjoy real American fried chicken. If we wanted to talk about a serious event, Burger Queen is the best place. We could sit in the sofa all day; the waitress would not ask us to consume more than one meal for staying longer. Although McDonald’s offered the same service as Burger Queen did, we did not like the McDonald’s fried chicken. Of course we could get free refills of coffee from McDonald’s, but the taste of their fried chicken was extremely terrible. Similarly, if the colonel of Kentucky Fried Chicken (KFC) tasted the fried chicken of Burger Queen, he would dig a hole on the ground and hide in there forever.

People could barely recognize Burger Queen from its front door. Actually people would inadvertently pass the restaurant even though they knew the address—2nd Mintsu East Road . I was one of them when I arrived. It did not have an obvious sign outside the building; moreover, the only sign was extremely tiny. I used to post a sign like “Microwave Oven in Use” outside my office; Burger Queen’s sign is smaller than that. The owner of Burger Queen did not redecorate the front French windows and the interior of the restaurant for more than twenty years so the glass remained a dark color of tea; the walls inside were still covered with wide boards of the wood crate. People who had never been here before would think the restaurant was a coffee shop, and it really looked, from outside, like a tired coffee shop with dark glasses. When I opened the door and looked inside, I felt the place was more like a mah-jongg club in Chinatown . The chairs and tables in the restaurant were normal like those in my house. As I walked in the restaurant, I realized it did not even have carpet. I sometimes wondered whether I was in downtown Taipei or not when I was in Burger Queen.

Like most of the restaurants in the city, Burger Queen did not offer a parking lot. I had to find one so that I could order my food. I ordered one “whole chicken” which are eight pieces with French fries when I waited for Otto. I assumed we could finish the food because we had the whole afternoon. I had to eat one fried chicken leg to ease my hunger. The skin of the fried chicken leg was amazingly crispy. When I sunk my teeth into the fried chicken leg, hot tasty juice came into my mouth. I could not resist the aroma when the crust peeled down. The cook must marinate the chicken with perfect sauce because the juice brought out the sweetness of the protein. The French fries in most of the fast food restaurants of the city were sleeping strips which meant they were too soft to stand up, but Burger Queen’s French fries were stiff. They also had crispy crusts and soft linings. I could not fry a crispy-coated chicken like this at home because my stove could not provide the heat as the stove of Burger Queen did. But, without the chicken sauce of Burger Queen, a strong stove could still not do the job. To most of the customers, Burger Queen was the embodiment of “American Food” and the memory of their childhoods.

The owner of the restaurant started his business twenty six years ago; he never changed place. By the time McDonald’s had established his first branch in Taiwan , Burger Queen was the most famous hamburger store in Taipei . It kept serving old fashion hamburgers covered with tinfoil. Right now only Wendy’s still covers their hamburgers with tinfoil. As I looked around, I found that the customers were all familiar with the food of the restaurant. In five minutes they could easily decide what they wanted to eat; they were veterans. Some of them went directly to the bar and ordered because they did not need a menu. A simple enjoyment was served here; a direct satisfaction was offered by the food. Customers did not care about the creaking chairs and the sloping tables. When the food was presented on the table, they fumbled at the hissing fried chicken with anxious fingers. They were eager to quench the hunger with a piece of golden fried chicken.

Otto came in twenty minutes late. I had already finished two pieces of fried chicken. He said he did not dare to work tonight when he scrunched against the chair. I took a sip of coke and said, “Ok! We just don’t show up.” He replied, “Really! What about the managers?” I said, “They didn’t treat us right, why should we inform them?” Otto felt uneasy and said, “Are you should it is the right thing to do?” I just nodded and kept silent.

We left the restaurant at seven that night. We went to see a movie and spent some time in the bookstore. When I arrived home, the clock showed eleven o’clock. Nobody called me that night when we were out. After a shower I went directly to bed. My mind could not settle because I kept thinking about the result if Lee eventually fired the gun. Could the managers handle this situation? I really did not know. I fell asleep at two o’clock in the morning because I kept thinking why I had choosen a dangerous place to earn money.

I went to the casino at noon to quit the job. The day shift manger took my resigning letter and asked about what happened last night. I replied I felt ill so I did not come. She said one of the customers brought a gun and yelled at another manger. I pretended that I was very surprised. I lied to her that I had to go to my school as quickly as possible because I did not want to hear anymore. I bought a newspaper when I went to the parking lot. I could not find any news about gun shots. Suddenly I felt so shameful. If I was shot last night and was reported in the newspaper, my mother would not forget me. I should choose a safe place to work not just for my sake; I also had the responsibility to stay away from trouble. When I drove the elevated way home, I realized money was not everything.

[damoko 10]

Sorry but I dont mean to be mean. I think I dont get this very well. Could you tell me what the main point is? Working in the safe place or having the crispy fried chicken at Burger Queen? If the answer is the former one, why did you keep praising the food?

[Giovano 10]

Well, it was my EN110 writing homework. EN means English. In the American education system, English course is ranked by numbers like EN085, EN095, EN100, and EN110. If students want to study literature, they can chose EN180 which is more professional.

First of all, I got your attention. You may say "What the heck! A pistol!", but what I really want you to read is the profile of the restaurant "Burger Queen". It is a trick. (Click on the hyperlink of the words Burger Queen, and you will see some photos of the restaurant because I can't post any Chinese character in this column. Am I right?)

Some writer use this trick to write a profile. In the EN110 class of my school, I was asked to write a paper by using this trick so this was the assay.

[MikiRei 10]

In the American education system, English course is ranked by numbers like EN085, EN095, EN100, and EN110. If students want to study literature, they can chose EN180 which is more professional.

American education system.....or just the university/college you attend?

[Giovano 10]

American education system.....or just the university/college you attend?

Check this:

http://www.ndnu.edu/academics/schools-programs/school-educational-leadership/liberal-studies/day.aspx

and:

http://www.sacredheart.edu/pages/18772_foundational_and_elective_core_courses.cfm

http://www.lssu.edu/advising/handbook/AAH_3-1-2.php

http://www.english.ucsb.edu/courses-list.asp

They could be ENGLXXX or EN because the university could name them in different ways.

In general, numbers like 200 are advanced courses.