On the way home, Mom called all the women in her book club to tell them that we went to Masgouf. She lied the whole time, telling them how nice it was to spend some alone time with me and how interesting it was to see all the Iraq people in their black face masks, and that she didn’t even think about Dad’s new girlfriend one time during the fun and tasty dinner. When Mom lies, she doesn’t just say things she doesn’t mean, she says the opposite of the things she does mean. And probably most children would be angry at their moms for lying so much, but for some reason it just makes me want to hug her.
When we got home I read Mom the plot synopsis for Wuthering Heights while she vacuumed in her underwear. Then Mom said her stomach kind of hurt and I thought that mine did too. So Mom and I both went to separate bathrooms and didn’t come out for a long time. That’s why I’m giving Masgouf 129 out of 2000 stars.
When the woman brought the bill, Mom smiled at her and said thank you, which was a lie, because Mom hates when people bring her the bill. When Mom and Dad were married, Mom would always pretend like she was going to pay and when Dad took the bill, which he always did, she said more lies like, ‘Are you sure? Okay, wow, thanks honey.’ Now that Dad doesn’t eat with us anymore, maybe I should pretend to take the bill from Mom and say a lie like, ‘Oh really? Okay, thanks Mom’ but I don’t because lies are for adults who are sad in their lives.
The mean woman took the bill back without saying thank you. I guess she is not sad. But she is definitely angry.
I understand why the people who work here are so angry. I guess it’s like working at a gas station, but instead of cars, they have to fill up people. And people eat slowly and talk about their stupid lives at the table and make each other laugh but when the people who serve the food come by, they stop laughing and talking and become quiet like they don’t want to let anyone else know about their great jokes. And if the people who bring the food talk about their lives, they’re not allowed to talk about how bad it is, only how good it is, like, ‘I’m doing great, how are you?’ And if they say something truthful like, ‘I’m doing terrible, I’m a waiter here,’ they will probably get fired and then they will be even worse. So it’s probably always a good idea to talk about things happily. But sometimes that’s impossible. That’s why I’m giving Sushi Nozawa 16 out of 2000 stars.
And when my second cousin Dina was diagnosed with a rare kidney disorder, Jeremy didn’t hesitate to go under the knife, even if it meant possibly losing his coveted spot on the Golden State Warriors basketball team. ‘Jeremy,’ I implored, ‘You’ve been working toward this your whole life. The Golden State Warriors is your favorite NBA team! You can’t stop playing now!’ And Dina said, ‘I’ve never even met Jeremy! Why would he do this?’
But in typical Jeremy fashion, he said something like, ‘Basketball can wait. Kidneys? Those are a whole ‘nother story.’ And we all laughed, except Dina whose kidney was failing.
And in the recovery room, when we discovered that Jeremy wasn’t a good match after all and he would have to live without a major organ, I said, ‘Hate to say I toldja so, Jer.’ And we all laughed, except Dina who still had to find another kidney.
The doctors said he was unimaginably selfless. I said, ‘It’s just plain old Jeremy.’