King Shawarma & Old Saigon Cafe

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A handsome man with jet black hair and jet black stubble spoke with an even more handsome middle eastern accent. 

"Can I help you sir?"

Why yes you can. Spencer, talk normal. 

Cough. Cough. "Yes, could I get—" 

I realized I hadn't looked at the menu and fought through the awkward pause I needed to make up my mind. 

"Could I get a beef shawarma?"

"Yes sir," he said calmly, as if my awkward pause hadn't existed. Another pause ensued where I tried to figure out how to pay. I prefer the credit card tap. But the thingy didn't have a tap thing. So I inserted.

"Would you like your receipt?" he asked.

"No thank you," I said and sat down. I scrolled to not look like a psycho staring at him. I looked briefly around the restaurant that doubled as backstock: empty cardboard boxes, upside down chairs and step stools smooshed into the far end of the room.

"Here you go," he said, offering his first half smile. Not that he needed to smile. His regular face was quite friendly.

"Thank you," I said, exiting King Shawarma quickly. 

I had an iced Vietnamese coffee to grab around the corner. 

The lady who greeted me at Old Saigon Cafe wore what I assume is traditional Vietnamese garb. Blue polyester dress with polyester purple sashes. She also wore a facemask out of concern for Covid, I guess. She was quite pretty, and when she couldn't hear me, she got arousingly close to me to hear better. 

"Do you have Vietnamese Iced coffee?" I repeated (I'd checked the menu and knew they had it. I only asked out of some people pleasing habit I can't shake). 

"Yes," she said, walking toward the kitchen while a cat waved.

I sat down and scrolled. I gave her my credit card when she returned, and she brought back a mini clipboard with three receipts for some reason. I only signed the first one but handed everything back to her. I was proud of my $2 tip for a $5 coffee and hoped she'd take that as flirting before realizing how stupid that sounded.

She swiftly brought me a coffee that tasted nothing like any Vietnamese coffee I'd ever had. It was thick and strong like Vietnamese coffee, but it didn't have that spiky flavor that makes you pucker up like you drank something sour. It was smooth and rich and chocolatey. Delicious, but not quite what I wanted either. 

But it would do. And it did.

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