Eating With ChopsticksA Story by Tionge Rosalie JohnsonThis was a story I wrote for my final portfolio for my Creative Writing Class. Hopefully it is an enjoyable read :).A waiter with slicked black hair and a polite
smile placed himself beside the couple seated at the window. When he took their
orders, Selena fumbled with her words while her fiancé, Daniel, confidently asked
for an order of minced chicken and rice. “Chopsticks or utensils?” asked the
waiter with a thick Korean accent. “Chopsticks please!” Daniel grinned. “No chopsticks for me please,” Selena
said, crossing her arms. Genuinely concerned, Daniel tried to
convince her to use some. He had made it a mission in the past to make her the
next chopstick master, and most of the time Selena refused. “You sure? It looks really complicated,
but I can always show you how to use them.” “I’ve used utensils all my life. If I
don’t use utensils, I use my hands.” A lopsided smile formed at the corner of
his right cheek. Selena couldn’t help but snort in amusement. She expected him
to pout like a toddler in time out and grinned at the image she was too
familiar with. “No chopsticks training for you, huh?” He
teased, sticking out his lower lip in a fake frown. Selena’s face lit up as her hands gripped
onto her stomach to avoid from tipping over. “I swear, you must be psychic!” she
laughed, the words continuing to escape her as she fell into a fit of giggles. Daniel
leaned back in his chair, enjoying the show. When their waiter took their orders back
to the kitchen and Selena regained consciousness, Daniel tried to plead once
more that she use chopsticks with him. She
quickly shook her head in response, the humor in her voice suddenly lost to
him. Her fiancé cocked his head and furrowed his brow, “Look, you really don’t
need to.” Selena didn’t respond and excused herself
to the restroom. He fidgeted with his wine glass as she left. “There’s something wrong with that woman,”
he said to himself, taking his iPhone out of his pants pocket. His mind went to
what he could have done to make her upset. Those past comments he’d made about
her family or little habits he’d teased her about. He didn’t want to think
about it, so he browsed through his iPhone, looking through Instagram photos
and Facebook status updates. He saw a bunch of unnecessary photos of baby
animals and people he’d forgotten in high school. When he came across the Instagram
photo of the day he proposed to Selena his heart sank. They looked happy and naïve. Plastic smiles
pressed up against a tiny image where an Instagram filter turned the sunset into
an illumination of their exuberant faces. Unaware of the torture that comes
with living together forever, let alone someone of an entirely different
culture. He should have taken the advice from his mother about too many flavors
added into one bowl of Sam Gae Tang. When Selena arrived from the restroom, he
still had his eyes glued to the device. Selena gave him an inquisitive look, “What
you looking at Daniel?” His head popped up suddenly, “Oh, just
looking at Instagram…you ok?” “Ya, I’m fine.” “Did I say something? I know I make fun
of your parents a lot but…they are kind of crazy.” Selena took a sip from her wine
glass, “ My parents are just as crazy as yours, maybe even worse. Pretty sure
your mom doesn’t like me.” “My mom is just anti-social. All she does
is clean the house.” Selena laughed at this, fully aware that
Daniel was just making an excuse for her. She knew right off the bat that Daniel’s
mother did not approve of her black skin. Sure her mother was from Senegal, but
that didn’t mean she wasn’t also white like her father. She hated to admit it,
but she was envious of her cousins from her father’s side with their straight
brown hair. “You mean your mother’s a racist,” Selena
blurted. “Keep your voice down.” “It wasn’t even that loud.” “Well, the whole world doesn’t have to hear
you call my mom a racist.” “Well, she is.” Their waiter arrived with a large plate
of minced chicken, brown rice, and a bowl of noodle soup. They thanked the waiter more assertively than
they would have liked and preceded with small talk until he left. Dry topics
like work and the weather. When the waiter was out of their sight, the couple
brought up wedding plans. “So, if we have a small wedding, you
still want it to be on the beach?” Selena asked, anticipating the correct
answer. “There is also Vegas, but that’s not as original,”
Daniel blurted. He set his iPhone on the
table. It buzzed, startling both of them. When he grabbed it, he saw to his dismay
the words MOTHER pop up on the screen. It’s vibrations shook the table. “Damn it,” he sighed. Selena lost herself in the ritual of
spinning noodles around her spoon. When
he answered, it sounded as if he had taken a one-way flight to Korea and never
came back; the thickness of his language too fresh for her liking. Her parents
spoke French, a common language in Senegal, but they spoke English fluently.
She knew her family preferred she spoke French, but they didn’t force her too
either. Almost everyone spoke English in her family. So, she was either going
to have to accept it, or somehow convince Daniel that his strong nationalistic
family should speak English. Her face grew wide with horror at the thought. So,
she decided not to say anything about it as Daniel swung his arms and groaned
incisively. “No, Mother, you know I’m busy right now.
I’m in a meeting!” She heard him say, before hanging up with a worried look on
his face. “How long will it take you to finish your
soup?” he asked. “Not long, why?” “Um…ya, we have a little issue.” Selena raised an eyebrow, “Something
tells me this is far from little.” Daniel’s iPhone started buzzing again.
This time he picked it up with extra force. “Goddamn it!” Selena crossed her arms and grinned matter-of-factly,
“So, I guess you win in the crazy parent department.” Daniel covered his hand over the iPhone
and questioned in a low voice, “how did you know?” “The screen said MOTHER on it.” “Oh.” “What does she want anyways?” Daniel reached a hand over and touched her
arm to quiet her. He had no choice but to return to his nagging mother, even if
it meant sacrificing their dinnertime. Selena raised her arms and rolled her eyes,
shaking her head in annoyance. This wasn’t the first time she’d noticed this occurrence.
His mother was always calling him. To
her, it seemed like an Asian thing. Her parents rarely called to check up on her. If they did, it was
usually for money. Most of her family on her mother’s side still lived in
Senegal. They weren’t living in poverty, but they weren’t sitting comfortably
on wealth either. On her father’s side, everyone was too wrapped up in their
own lives to bother to call. Selena was ok with this; otherwise she would have
gotten to Daniel’s point in sanity. He slammed his fist on the restaurant
table, “Mother, I said I was in a meeting!”
A shrill, high-pitched sound burst through
the receiver as the skin between Selena’s eyes wrinkled in concern. She felt
horrible every time she saw him sigh and run his hands through his hair. “Ok, OK! You got me! I’m at a restaurant
with my girlfriend! SHOOT ME!” Selena dropped the spoon into her soup
and her body grew stiff. When he hung up, he violently slammed the iPhone onto
the table. He buried his face in his hands. She was stuck to her chair. Unable
to think of anything that could ease his suffering. If she gave him time to
calm down, she could have at least seen him with that lopsided smile that had
her in good spirits a moment ago. She finally decided to let him eat the
rest of his minced chicken in silence. She still had a ways to go with her
soup, so to bide time she kept eating. Suddenly, the ringing of a bell tied to
the front door broke their silence. They heard the shallow greeting from the
hostess, as a short and stout Korean woman made her way towards their table. Daniel
swallowed hard on a small chicken bone, making him cough slightly. He quickly
drank some water to stop from making a scene. Selena turned her head to stare
at the pigeons outside the window. “You’re almost 30 year old and you still
lie!” his mother screeched at Daniel, her hands placed firmly on her hips. The act flipped a personality switch in
his brain. He pulled his chair back, stood up straight, and towered over her. “This is my
life, Mother. I understand we have traditions, no…sorry I made a
grammatical error, I understand you
have traditions, but this is what I have chosen for my life.” His mother opened her mouth to say
something, but Daniel made a threatening gesture with his hand and said, “Don’t
say anything.” Daniel’s assertiveness made Selena fidget
in her chair. She so badly wanted to make a break for it through the front
door. Anything but her presence becoming a nuisance to the current situation. It only got worse the more defiant Daniel
became. Mother and son now yelling at each other in a battle of who’s louder
than who. The other customers and restaurant staff froze in whatever positions
they were in to watch. Stuck in place like Selena. A shiver traveled through Daniel’s body,
as the aching secret made its way to his lips. He screamed at his mother, “I love Selena and we are getting MA-RR-ED. It’s done, it’s final!” Their waiter approached with a full
pitcher of water and almost ran into him. The other customers scrunched up
their faces and turned away, indifferent. Their waiter turned to Selena and
asked if she’d like more water. Selena refused and asked if he could instead
bring water for Daniel’s mother. She’d hoped her polite gesture would make up
for Daniel’s outburst. Their waiter nodded and quickly took off for
a glass. Daniel’s mother fell limp into his chair, the realization of his
statement making imprints in her head. He remained standing and Selena
unconsciously held his hand. Selena looked up and whispered to him,
“You know, we can call it off. It’s ok.” He squeezed her fingers as if to reply
and welled up in tears. Selena let her mouth hang loose as she realized he too
was stuck. She sat looking up at him and tried to find the strength to stand
beside him. She was able to, but with much effort. When their waiter arrived
with a glass of water, his mother took a large gulp and set it down. She stared
down at her glass and made a sigh. She finally spoke after leaving the couple
in anticipation. “So, you love him?” Selena stared in disbelief at who was
addressing her. His mother rarely acknowledged her existence. The word slipped out of her lips with
ease, “Yes.” “I don’t know what you see in that girl.” Daniel took a long breath to control his anger,
“I see my wife.” “Her family is not…our family. You must
understand.” Daniel was about to retort, when Selena
turned her attention to the chopsticks on his plate. She reached over and
placed them in-between her fingers. And, with ease, Selena picked up two pieces
of chicken in her soup. “You
knew how to use them all along!” Daniel laughed. He held his mother’s shoulder
and smiled wide. “How about that! Don’t you see why I’m marrying her?” His mother furrowed her brow, “because
she uses chopsticks?” He fell into hysterics after witnessing
her comical ignorance. Selena finished her soup and placed the chopsticks
neatly onto his plate. © 2016 Tionge Rosalie JohnsonFeatured Review
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4 Reviews Added on December 6, 2013 Last Updated on July 26, 2016 Tags: short story, fiction writing AuthorTionge Rosalie JohnsonSyracuse , NYAboutI'm a graduate student at the S.I Newhouse School of Public Communications studying Arts Journalism where I am specializing in theatre. I have a great passion for writing and editing written work and .. more..Writing
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