"I would hurl words into this darkness and wait for an echo, and if an echo sounded, no matter how faintly, I would send other words to tell, to march, to fight, to create a sense of hunger for life that gnaws in us all." ~Richard Wright, American Hunger, 1977

"I write when I dream and I dream when I write."

~Khadija Craddock

Monday, January 23, 2012

Soul Salt

So in honor of my BFF's upcoming big 30th birthday...we went out to eat at a popular Soul Food restaurant in New Brunswick, NJ. The three of us were dressed in our most presentable threads...well most presentable for the occasion...and we could see that other patriots have done the same. My sister notifies the host that we have arrived for our reservation. She tells us to follow Justin. Justin however must of missed the memo because he was completely oblivious. After being tired of waiting for him to seat us, my sister approached him...reminding him that he was to seat us and not the other party he was socializing with. Well he did so but he wasn't pleased about it at all. He was cold and smug as he seated us with ill delight. So from then on I dubbed Justin, Justine, for having the same demeanor of a uppity chick.

Our server comes to greet the three of us and she wasn't a pleasant young lady. She too was smug and aloof; though I must commend her on the availability of the delicious corn muffins and butter- like- no- other. I digress to her unfriendliness. She wasn't helpful when trying to place an order and she barely spoke. It seemed to us that everyone in the restaurant also carried the same attitude. Where is the soul in that? More like soulless. We didn't know if it was just us and the staff completely just didn't like us.

We finally placed our order. I get my food and I'm completely unsatisfied with my dried out almond crusted salmon. After moping with the fork sitting in the plate lonely and cold, I decided to let the waitress know it's not to my liking while secretly praying they wouldn't dispel any bodily fluids in the next order. Our server was MIA and the manager just happened to be standing behind me so the birthday girl summoned her and I told her of my dislike with the food and ordered the same dish as the birthday girl. The manager was stern and sturdy, but she didn't hesitate to change my order. 

All and all we would have faired better making our own dish. The macaroni and cheese, fried whiting, and jambalaya grits was flavorful but so salty it over powered everything else. We enjoyed ourselves greatly laughing like insane hyenas, we spoke about our past experiences and moments that should have been recorded on video but never shown to any one's mother. We laughed, stuffed our mouths with soul salt, and laughed and stuffed some more as our blood cells shrunk in diameter from the salt. We felt like we was having a sugar high, but instead it was a salt high that caused us to want to drown in spring water just so we wouldn't feel thirsty again. Water didn't come easy with our waitress when every she did come to check on us. 

At least we enjoyed ourselves even if we didn't enjoy the salty food that was clearly meant for crabs and fishes of the sort, they would have greatly enjoyed swimming in the grits.