Monday, January 15, 2018

Good Friends. Fat Bellies.

Remember in 90s movies when the hot girl would enter a party in slow motion? That’s what happens when I walk into a buffet.

And that I did yesterday. My good friend Rob was in town with his daughter, and we spent the morning walking Ricky down the strand, and then had lunch at a place I’ve passed five million times but never had a meal: Big Wok, Mongolian barbecue.

It’s essentially a buffet of Korean barbecue-type meats, with noodles and vegetables and sauce. You load up a bowl, then get in line around the big woks – and some very hard-working nice gentlemen put up with intense temps to heat up your meal. Then you eat your enormous meal, and get in back in line for seconds. Then you’re so full you go blind.

It was nice to see Rob, and his daughter Pheobe, a very sweet, smart, curious ten-year-old who at one point said something so observant to Rob and me: “You guys speak a language I don’t understand.”

It was the shared experience of guys who’ve know each other for decades. The shorthand, the quotes from our favorite movies, the same sense of humor that is the foundation of every friendship. Yesterday was a damn good day.

I made Rob and Phoebe promise to come out here again soon. I’ll probably regain my appetite by then. Probably. And then it’s on, Big Wok.