Thursday, May 10, 2007

Covert Cashew Caper

So this guy we know, we'll call him Gary, goes to our favorite Thai restaurant for lunch and orders the cashew chicken (better known to regulars as #5).

When the owner/waitress/busperson/cashier sets it down on the table Gary informs her that he had in fact ordered the cashew chicken. She points to the center of his plate at a lone cashew tucked into the chicken and rice. So he figures there'll be more underneath and proceeds with his lunch. Turns out to be the only cashew in the whole dish.

So he goes up to pay and this conversation ensues:
"I was wondering if you could maybe take like $1 off my bill since there was only one cashew in my cashew chicken."
"Oh? And how many cashews you think you should get?"
"Um...more than one?"
"Do you know how expensive they are?"

So since then, whenever we order the #5, we always feel blessed when we find more than one cashew in our dish. Well, Gary has taken a stint in Germany so in his honor, we had a little fun yesterday at the Thai place. We ordered the #5 as usual and as usual, it came out with a cashew garnish perched atop the rice. After I had finished 3/4 of the dish and the owner/waitress/busperson/cashier was in the kitchen, I pulled out a baggie of my own cashews and added two large handfuls of the beauties to the plate, mixed them with the sauce and then pushed them to the side as if I had "picked them out". I tried to put some on Sean's plate but he only agreed to a couple. Kerven had to keep thinking about dead puppies to keep from laughing.

So we lure her out with empty water glasses and as she's refilling, Kerven asks me how my #5 was today. "Not bad," I say, leaning back and rubbing my tum-tum,"little heavy on the cashews though..." At this her eyes glance at my plate and the tiniest smile emerges. She retreats to the kitchen and we immediately hear banging pot lids. We are now almost crying and we are the only patrons in the restaurant so we don't even have social pressure to help us stay cool.


We regain composure long enough to pay the bill and head for the door. As we're leaving, she's walking over to collect my plate and she moves slower with each step as her eyes fix on the golden mound of leftover cashews. We spent the ride back to work imagining what happened in the kitchen after we left. Sometimes the best pranks are when you're not there for the payout.

Speaking of pranks, remember this one?


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