There's the
Po(e) people I wrote about and now a new breed.
The first member I met was a lady, smartly dressed, looking educated. She came in on a rainy cold day and as she walked to the counter she wiggled the rain from herself.
"I'll have your chicken noodle soup please."
"We don't have chicken noodle soup."
Brian, the all knowing master, brushed by me and gently whispered "She means the Pho."
OhhhhhhhhThe next time it happened I felt proud of myself.
"You mean the Pho?"
"Yes, the Vietnamese soup."
Today's member was also a lady, not so different than the first.
"I'll have your chicken noodle soup."
"You mean the Pho right?" It was quasi-rhetorical. I practically punched the order in.
"No. Your
chicken noodle soup," she repeated.
"Ummm." I quickly looked left and right for Brian, but the master wasn't around.
Fuck.
"I'm sorry, we don't have that."
"Yes you do. I've had it before."
I grabbed the menu with a picture of Pho on it.
"You mean this?"
She looked at me as though I was crazy.
"Yes!" She fingered the same picture. "The chicken noodle soup."
I totally want the Po(e) people to meet the Chicken Noodle Soup people. The room would be all white like a hospital. I would seat them across from each other and in the middle of the table place a picture of Pho and a gun loaded with only one bullet. All I would say is "discuss," and then I would solemnly leave the room. Maybe I would let a single tear roll down my face, but that's only if someone was watching me.
On another note, Sprout was mentioned again in
Toronto Life as part of their bargain of Toronto issue. They called Sprout, "The Star of Saigon."
