Colorful Characters Part II - Barbara the Lunch Lady

I know I sound like a broken record, and I recognize that I lost all credibility a long time ago, but still, I apologize for the delay.

-Random Cultural Tidbit of the Day-

As a way to make some easy cash while maintaining their image at home, big time celebrities and athletes will shamelessly endorse not-so big time products. Case in point, the other day I was waiting in line at the neighborhood convenience store when I perused the giant display of condoms (*cultural tidbit- Due to the one child policy in China and under availability of medical care for other forms of birth control, condoms are a HUGE industry here) and was shocked to be a greeted by a familiar face; plastered across a Chinese brand of condoms was the sultry pout of Britney Spears. (Really, talk about an Al Pacino-in-the-Godfather-like transformation. Six years ago she was the world’s most famous virgin hosting the Nickelodeon Kid’s Choice Awards, and now she is endorsing China-brand condoms).

On another occasion I was walking down the main street when I noticed another familiar face above a little store. The brand is called “Athletic” and they specialize in basketball apparel. So, who should they pick as the face of modern basketball? How about early 1990’s NBA star Clyde ”the Glyde” Drexler! So, atop every Athletic Store is the blown up image of the 55 year-old Glyde in full uniform, giving his most imposing AARP-game face. And, of course, this is all completely normal to Chinese people.

-Lunch Lady Barbara-

One ‘perk’ of working at Kid Castle is that it provides its employees with dinner on weeknights and lunch on weekends. As was the case with my ill-tempered cleaning lady, once again Kid Castle’s magnanimity towards its employees has had some unforeseen consequences. The next colorful character whom I’d like to introduce to you adds some spice to my life both literally and figuratively. Around the `Castle she’s known as Lunch Lady Barbara.

A stout woman on the wrong end of middle age, Barbara epitomizes the lunch lady stereotype. She is ornery, confrontational, and, naturally, an awful cook. Needless to say, I find her absolutely terrifying. A typical meal of Barbara’s consists of some medley eggs, weird meat, some grassy shoot-stuff, more grassy noodle-shoots, question mark dish vegetable dish, carrots and/or potatoes (both look the same after she is done with them) Chinese meatballs, and rice (even the Chinese people don’t like her food..which is really saying something). If I were a rabbit with a predilection for unidentifiable stringy meat I would be in heaven.

So, given my disinclination towards eating things that ‘look and smell funny,’ and Barbara’s unparalleled ability to prepare foods that ‘look and smell funny,’ it did not take long to establish ourselves as mortal enemies. This wasn’t always the case though. Initially, our relationship had potential to be great. To Barbara, a person’s worth is measured solely by how much they like her cooking, which in turn is a function of how much food one eats. So, given that I am the largest person in the school and thus theoretically able to consume the most food, Barbara had high hopes for me. The first weeks at the school our encounters were borderline pleasant. The typical meal would proceed as follows:

I would hesitantly go to the cafeteria with Matt. During this time, I still felt culturally obligated to eat the food and pretend to like it. So, as soon as Matt informed me that the food was in fact not dog or cat, I would shovel some on my plate and make a go of it. Within ten minutes of ‘eating’ the meal, Barbara would sneak out into the cafeteria and look at everyone’s plate to see how much they had eaten. Since she doles out the portions, she knows precisely the quantity of food that everyone took. So, she can deduce exactly how much everyone has eaten. For the first week or so, I blamed my lack of appetite on my inability to use chopsticks (really. how is someone honestly expected to eat a slab of meat with two sticks?! ) At this point, she was growing suspicious of me, but our relationship was still cordial.

After the chopsticks excuse wore thin, I began trying to pass my uneaten food off on other people’s plates. I would intentionally distract my coworkers and students, then move a slab of meat from my plate onto theirs, then run and turn in my plate and sprint out of the cafeteria. Also weary of Barbara’s wrath, other people did not take kindly to this maneuver of mine, and quickly caught on to this move. Whenever I would pull it, all the students would rat me out to Barbara, which made me look even worse.

Then, something magical happened. I learned how to say “ I don’t want” in Chinese. So, whenever she asked me if I wanted something, I would respond with “bu yao.” Everyone in the cafeteria was greatly amused by this, except for of course, dear old Barbara. From then on, before every meal was over, she would come and mock me and scream at me to leave for not eating her food in her broken Chinese dialect (* every region of China has its own dialects. Unlike dialects in America where you can still understand people from other regions, Chinese dialects are virtually separate languages. It is not uncommon for people of one region to not be able to understand people from another region).

In response to her publicly lambasting me, I just stopped going to the cafeteria. On a few occasions she would come to the office and scream at me to come eat, but I generally refused. I had won the feud. Or so I had thought.

Unbeknownst to me, that sly fox Barbara was hiding one last arrow in her quiver. As it turned out, Barbara was in cahoots with my other great nemesis: the cleaning woman. Together, they began to conspire against me. The cleaning woman would come and report to Barbara every little embarrassing tidbit she could about our apartment and our possessions. In turn, Barbara would so graciously volunteer this information to everyone during meal time. So, for a few weeks, everyone got know exactly how messy my room was, exactly how many pizzas I had ordered, what my laundry smelt like, if I had showered or not, if we had spent the previous night drinking, etc. It was terrible.

To make matters worse, I was being attacked on both sides by my terrible foes. The cleaning woman would partake (I swear) in semi-deliberate acts of sabotage and then report them to Barbara, who would then tell everyone who would listen. One such example was how our socks, continue to this day, to ‘vanish.’ Currently, I have exactly three pairs of socks, all of which I have been forced to buy since I’ve been here. As a result, there have been many days where I had to wear mismatching socks (a black and a white one) because those were the only ones I could find in the entire apartment (since I was wearing long pants I didn’t really think it mattered anyway). Well, the cleaning woman reported my sock-iniquities to Barbara, who, then in front of everyone one day randomly walked up to me and pulled up my jeans to see if I was wearing matching socks. When she discovered to her great disappointment that my socks were indeed matching that day, she explained to everyone how I don’t always wear matching socks. Our feud is beyond ridiculous.

With that last straw, our relationship has morphed into what is characterized by a mutual disliking expressed through passive aggressive comedy (well, actually, she is just aggressive but I can’t understand a word she says). So, as a subtle act of defiance, at every meal now I ask Barbara if she has pizza or not (I ask in Chinese). Then, when she emphatically responds no, I ask her why not, and if she will have pizza the next day. To which, she screams at me in Chinese to get out of the kitchen.

Thanks again for reading. Please feel free to leave comments or questions. Take care.