David’s neighborhood in Portland was always busy and always changing. Seemingly overnight, a small new restaurant opened across the street, and David Emami felt adventurous and wanted to try it. He usually just enjoyed his frozen Hungry Man meals (especially the scrumptious rib shaped patty meal), but Fred and Barbra Streisand were getting on his nerves, so he needed some away time from his moody cats.
The restaurant was named “Le Bistro Petit,” but David wasn’t the most cultured human being (though he liked to think he was), so he pronounced it “La Bistro Pee Tit.” The name made him smile, and he was sure he was about to stumble upon what could possibly be the greatest culinary experience of his life. As usual, he was very wrong about his assumptions.
“Welcome! Can I start you off with a drink?” asked the waitress.
“I’ll have a glass of warm tap water, please,” replied David.
She looked at him funny. “Whatever you want!” She disappeared into the kitchen, then came out with his water. The restaurant was relatively empty except for David and an old couple on the other end of the seating area. “Here you go. What can I get for you?”
“Well, your entire menu seems to be in another language! I don’t even know where to begin!”
“Well, it’s French food, so those are French names.”
“Do you have french fries?” he asked.
“No, those aren’t even French.”
“Well, clearly they are, it’s in the name!”
“Anyways… may I suggest the escargot? It’s our specialty.”
“Sounds delicious! I love trying new things!” He actually hated trying new things, but he wasn’t about to admit that in such a regal establishment.
“That’s the spirit! I’ll have them out right away.”
David patiently waited for his food as he looked around at the lively decor in the room. “What lovely taste the French have,” said David to himself.
The food finally came out, and David stared at what had been placed in front of him, then back up at the waitress. “Snail shells? What is this travesty?”
“Escargot! It’s made of snails and it’s delicious.”
“I’m not eating snails! I kill these in my garden all the time! This is absolutely disgusting! Are you trying to kill me?” The old couple turned to look at David. “Oh, turn around and mind your own business! You’re obviously okay with eating bugs!”
“They aren’t bugs, sir,” said the waitress.
David stood up and announced, “I have a salisbury steak Hungry Man meal waiting for me in my apartment and I will not pay for this joke of a meal.” David marched toward the door and never looked back. He was convinced that all French people must be crazy.
David Emami is Alone in Portland is a collection of stories that peer into the life of a middle-aged curmudgeon with a fondness for cats and antiques.
Playfully illustrated with Bitmoji characters, his story comes to life as each day brings a new adventure.
He was obsessive compulsive and mad about antiques. The apartment was covered, top to bottom, in decor that would be more aligned with that of an old woman that peaked in the 1960s. david-emami-takes-on-portland.html
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