Saturday night, I forced everyone to go eat Bambi rice (venision meat) and went to this particular shop we frequent for this dish. I was starving and, as Karen would say, hangry (hungry and angry). When the food came, I had sufficiently cast a dark cloud around the table with my charming mood.
I exaggerate. Anyways, digging into the food, I discover a cooked fly nestled within the slices of my venision. This is not the first time for this dish, this restaurant and for me. The guy whom I summoned had the nerve to ask me if it just flew in. They prepared another one for me and later charged me without so much of a "sorry". I swear I won't eat there again.
But I must say it's been a while since I've had foreign materials in my food. Not that I'm wishing but it's become a normal routine for me not to scrutinize my food before partaking every mouthful. Ah, blessed are the oblivious (although I wouldn't want to know what a fly tastes like - remembering the time when I "extracted" the juices from a black beetle from my lam mee once).
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