Pho Thanh Long
I ended my phone call with one of my best friends and walked into Pho Thanh Long. I'd felt guilty for placing my online food order during our phone call, but I was still happy with the order: Banh Mi, Thai Tea, Spring rolls.
I noticed someone in the restaurant looked familiar, but I couldn't remember her name. It would only be halfway through fighting a spicy jalapeno that I'd remember I worked with her pretty closely for two years a couple jobs ago. Whoops.
"Did you order—?" The cashier with a buzzed head and portly stature got distracted by nothing before returning to his question. "A Vietnamese sandwiiiich and uhh."
"Thai tea," I offered.
"Yes," he said, curtly, not liking that I'd offered, apparently.
He handed me the food wrapped in a Walmart bag (the best food is poorly wrapped) with the signature pinkie wide straw jutting out the side that I'd soon jam through the tea's sealing film. No turtles saved today.
I ate the Bahn Mi so fast I may have eaten some of the white tissue paper wrapped around it. The tender pork and delicious vegetables paired perfectly. Fuck.
I took my time with the spring rolls. Mostly because I had to. That sticky, chewy outer layer was hard to navigate with my teeth. But well worth the effort.
I'm currently still sipping that tea. Carefully. Wouldn't want to choke on tapioca.
It was a hard day at work today. But I feel better now. I'm home. I'm writing. I'm gonna shower and sing soon. It's been a good day.
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