I am denied quarantine lunch
I’m sure there’s a story behind my late lunch today, but I’m equally sure that I will never, ever, hear that story. Because China.
Quarantine is going OK so far. The hotel room could use a good scrubbing, but it isn’t as disgustingly filthy as some people had complained about. The room is large, bed is comfortable, the view is nice, the Internet is reasonably fast (by China standards).
The food is a different story. I am not a fan.
Three times a day, the doorbell to my room rings, and when I open the door, I’m greeted by the droppings of the hotel’s kitchen.
The food is (mostly) edible, but it isn’t gourmet dining. I’ve had better food on the street. I’ve also had worse food in restaurants. Bottom line: it is neither worth complaining about, nor writing home about.
The boy scout in me was still working before I left the U.S. I came prepared with my own snacks. Having some comfort food helps, a lot.
I was a little confused, and more than slightly amused, when lunch didn’t appear today. My wife sent me a text message from her room that her lunch was delivered. But when I looked outside my room, the stool was empty.
These things seem to happen to me in China. I learned to roll with it, and see the humor. I had a snack from my stash, and wasn’t too hungry. But I was curious. An hour later, I called the front desk. “I’m not complaining, just curious: no lunch today?” I asked.
“It’s coming, it’s coming, it’s coming!” the voice from the front desk assured me.
Sure enough, a few minutes later, the doorbell rang. Lunch was served.
I was expecting a piping-hot, fresh-from-the-wok meal. After all, it was an hour late. Maybe they had to make something just for me? So it would be a something special? Silly me. I got a cold box lunch. And it was just as nondescript as all the other meals. So why the delay? Why did it take an hour for the hotel staff to deliver my lunch? I will never know.
Leave it to China to inject some drama in something as simple as lunch.