Lighter Rice, Darker Rice

2 Jul

The waitress at my favorite home-style Korean restaurant brought us our left-over Bi Bim Bap in a bag containing two take-out containers.

“You’ll know which is which, because,” as she points to me, “yours is the lighter rice,” and pointing to the man I’ve been seeing, who, yes, you guessed it, just so happens to be black, “and yours is the darker rice.”

I squirm in my seat, and half-smirk, half-smile at my companion across the table.

The waitress, the friendly 20-something daughter of the husband-wife team that runs the place, pauses, I believe realizing her awkward Korean moment, places the bag down on our table, and hurries away.

I laugh, and look over at Super H. Genius, the name I am giving him here–letting him be anonymous for the time being–Super: because he’s super nice, Genius: because he’s super smart, or smaht, if you say it with a Rhode Island accent, and H. for Handsome, because he’s that, too.

I have to admit, that this being the first time I am posting about dating someone since my divorce, I feel awkward. I don’t want to be disrespectful to my former husband. I worry about relatives of his reading this and thinking badly of me. I even wonder what my own friends and acquaintances will think about it, since I’m a pretty private person and haven’t shared much publicly about my relationship news.

I even feel a bit like a traitor to the Korean family that runs the restaurant. I wonder if they remember me from when I used to come with my former husband and daughters, especially since my daughters told me they’ve been there with their Dad recently. Are they disappointed that I didn’t stay in my marriage? Do they think it is too soon for me to be ordering the fragrant Bi Bim Bap with somebody else?

I suppose I can’t worry about being a private person now that I have a blog.

Back to the rice. I say to Super H. right after the waitress leaves, “see, I get the lighter rice because I am white and you get the darker rice because you are black.”

“Naw, I think it’s because I have a darker mood, and you have a lighter spirit.” See how nice he is.

The waitress returns, and delicately, using humor as her saving grace, says, while looking at Super H., “yes, you put a lot of the sauce in your rice, like me. You must like it spicy, too.”

We all laugh. I don’t even want to start reading Freudian slips into her references to spiciness. Like I said, she’s a lovely young woman, and as you’ve witnessed here on this blog, I have had my awkward white girl moments on more than one occasion.

Next time I’ll be sure to use just as much hot sauce as Super H*., just to help an awkward sister out.

 

*Oh well, Super H. broke up with me the same night I wrote this post up, but I decided to post it anyway, because I think it’s funny, and it’s honest.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

6 Responses to “Lighter Rice, Darker Rice”

  1. Steve July 2, 2012 at 7:50 am #

    Hey Wendy,

    Thanks for sharing this, in spite of the ending it was definetly funny – found myself laughing out loud while reading it. You should edit the footnote though and drop the “Super” from “Super H.” since “H.” lost my vote for niceness by breaking up with you – his loss. Did you split the leftovers 50/50 – LoL.

    Steve

    • Wendy Jane July 2, 2012 at 7:57 am #

      Thanks for reading, Steve. I thought it was funny, too. And, no comment on the split leftovers.:)

  2. Myrna July 2, 2012 at 10:23 am #

    So sorry for the break up, but you’re right. It made a great story. You know I like your personal ones the best.

    • Wendy Jane July 2, 2012 at 2:52 pm #

      thanks, Myrna!

  3. KLH August 15, 2012 at 9:15 am #

    I think honesty is the best quality (behind great wrting) of the good blog. As far as discussing a new realtionship for fear that your ex-husband might be offended is something you’d do well to rid yourself of. You have a right to any and all new love you want. Rock On!!!

    • Wendy Jane August 15, 2012 at 9:24 am #

      Thanks, Ken. I strive for honesty here, and hope that comes through. Thanks for the advice, too. I know I have these neurotic thoughts, and often feel like a female version of Woody Allen:)

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