The Pursuit of Anything Except Ramen Noodles

The snow was coming down heavily and Charlene was worried. “I don’t think we have any food. What are we going to eat if we get snowed in?” .

“We’ve got plenty of Ramen noodles – and cookies," I assured her.

We were getting hungry for dinner and we were both craving a pizza. We called around to all the local pizzerias. None of them answered the phone. Not even Dominos.

“I guess it’s Ramen noodles tonight,” Charlene said playfully.

Ok. Maybe pizza was out of the question. but there had to be somewhere else. I thought long and hard about whom would be open during this monumental snowstorm. And, then it occurred to me. “We’re having Chinese tonight!” I exclaimed.

Driving the one-mile down the road to Hunan Panda Wok Jade Express felt like what I imagined driving my car at the top of Mt. Everest at night would be like. When I pulled into the parking lot – which at that point looked more like a glacier -- the shopping plaza was completely black except for the little red neon sign that said ‘open’ in the snow covered window of the Chinese restaurant.

I got out of my car and made my way to the front door, trudging through the high winds and shin-deep snow. I walked into the restaurant, and much to my surprise, I wasn’t the only idiot there picking up food. There was a whole line of us. Not only that, but the phone was ringing off the hook with even more idiots placing orders.

Zigzag was waiting for me at the front door when I got home and she was very excited about the contents inside of my big brown grease stained paper bag.

“Whew! It’s nasty out there,” I yelled up the stairs.

“What?” Charlene yelled back.

She was obviously sitting on the couch with Claws or Mr. Howell and couldn’t be bothered to greet me at the door. “How is it out there?” she yelled from the couch.

“I’m giving Zigzag your sweet and sour chicken because she’s the only one that cared enough to greet me at the door,” I said jokingly to Charlene as she continued to sit very warm and cozily on the couch with Claws by her side.

“I couldn’t get up, pooh bear. Look how comfortable Claws looks curled up next to me. I couldn’t bear to disturb him,” she explained as she stroked her hand across his fur.

“Well, food’s here if you’re interested,” I reported. “C’mon Zigzag!”

Zigzag followed me to the kitchen and, reluctantly, Charlene did too. Even the affection of the cat couldn’t hold her back from the mouthwatering aroma of Chinese takeout.

“Oh my God!” Charlene uttered. “I can’t believe how much food they give you.”

“A lot of stray cats,” I maintained.

“That’s horrible. I hate when you say that,” Charlene expressed just as the cats rushed into the kitchen and jumped up on the table.

The cats sat at a safe distance from the food like they always do. They know their boundaries. They know how close they can come without provoking a spray bottle attack. But, I could see their wheels turning – always scheming to get away with a piece of chicken and waiting for me to slip up and drop something on the floor.