Shrimp Sauce pt. 2

"Even Mo' Shrimp Sauce"

Ok, so we were at Benny Hanna's; we had the bad chef. This has all been established in part 1 of this epic, and if you were too damn lazy to read it, scroll down or look to the right at the previous articles. Now, where was I....Ok. At Benny Hannas, every table is seated with about 6 people....6 random people. If you go with 4 friends, your going to sit with 2 strangers. We went with 5 people, so we were given one stranger at our table. This stranger was the sassiest, largest, black women, who looked like she jumped right off the Maple Syrup bottle. Now everyone knows that I love sassy black women. They are never afraid to speak whats on their mind, and I knew as soon as I saw this women, she would make my dinner that much more enjoyable.

As soon as we sat down, the first thing she said to the chef was, "You got the shrimp sauce?" He said not to worry and kept cooking. This women was a Benny Hanna's veteran, and came not for the gimmicky environment, but for the food. As I tried to encourage the chef to do more tricks, she gave me a look like, "Why don't you tell him to cut the bullshit, and lets eat!"

So the first thing we ate was shrimp fried rice. She demanded shrimp sauce and totally overloaded on it. Nothing odd about that. Up next however, was the chicken teryiaki. Before it was served she demanded, "Mo' shrimp sauce!" She then took the shrimp sauce and poured it all over the chicken. My jaw hit the floor. "What the fuck?! That sauce is for the shrimp! It's called "shrimp" sauce for Christ's sake!" She smiled as she stuffed a piece of chicken in her mouth, "You don't know bout the secret. This is the secret....You put this shrimp sauce on everything!" Apparently only a few people were let in on this "secret", and she was now inviting me in. Without warning, she handed me the shrimp sauce and said, "try it."

It was not an option for me. Her eyes brunt a hole in my soul as she watched me, anxiously waiting for me to put on the shrimp sauce. Now me, being a logical, sane, person, knows that no shrimp sauce belongs on chicken. I didn't want to put it on but I knew I had no option. So I slowly took off the cap, and put the tiniest amount humanly possible onto my chicken. It was like a single drop. Her smile quickly turned to a frown. She looked at me with utter disappointment. "That's it?!" She exclaimed while staring at me. I now looked like a deer caught in the headlights. What was I going to do. I started to stutter and got out a, "Of course not!' I then put some more on, and looked for her approval. Then I went shrimp fucking sauce crazy and loaded the chicken with it. She smiled, "There you go!" I picked up a piece and put the fork to my mouth very slowly. (I dont know how to use chop sticks.) I knew it was going to suck. I shoved it in my mouth and tried to swallow it. "Thats good right?" I looked at her while chewing and wanted to throw up all over the table, but instead I forced a fake smile. Then when the meal was done, this women made the chef pack up some cups of shrimp sauce for her home usage.

I said I had to go to the bathroom, excused myself, and went and made the call. Later that night she went into the parking lot and entered her car. And as soon as she turned the key...KA-BOOM! Thats for ruining my dinner! Ok...this last part is not true, but I had no other idea how to end this story. Hell, I don't even know why, of all the crazy stuff that happened me, I chose this to write about. Its weird sometimes, the stuff you remember.