Sticky Manners

I was in New York City on a vacation and meeting a friend for dinner at a favorite Thai restaurant. It sits just below sidewalk level and we chose a window table in an alcove where we could watch the passing shoes go by. I hadn’t been to dinner with this friend before, and it occurred to me that since he grew up in a city and I in a small town I had better watch my manners. Its not that I have bad manners, sometimes I even get compliments. I just wanted to make a good impression.

There was just one small problem: I had a gum in my mouth.

I don’t know why I hadn’t spit it out earlier, but it was still there. I searched the white linen surface of the table for something to put it in – there was nothing. Mentally I started listing all the things that might have been there that could be used: a paper napkin, sugar packets, a comment card. There was nothing even remotely close. I briefly considered sticking it under the table or plopping it in the glass flower vase but decided that if I was caught doing either, I could pretty well guess my friend’s thoughts on my manners. He sat across from me talking, unaware of the turmoil that I was facing. I made sure to smile and nod and listen, all the while plotting how to get rid of the gum.

The waiter brought shrimp chips to the table. I love shrimp chips. My friend dug right in. How could I eat shrimp chips with gum in my mouth? I had to act as though I did not want them.

Next, the waiter brought our drinks. My heart leapt. Dangling on top of my straw was a tiny piece of paper wrapper. I can use this, I thought. I removed the wrapper, put it beneath the table cloth, and waited for my chance. My friend glanced towards the window and I quickly reached into my mouth, removed the gum, and pushed it into the paper under the table. There was just one small problem: the paper wasn’t big enough. As I twisted it around, it stuck to the fingers of one hand.

It was a mess. I’d never felt such sticky gum. Two fingers felt coated. It was like a quicksand where the more you struggle, the deeper you get. I was struggling furiously with it and acting as if I am having a lovely time and I rolled it back into a ball.

The waiter returned with soup. It was Tom Kha Gai, a sour tasting soup with chicken, mushroom and green chilies, in a rich coconut milk. The bowl sat on a saucer on a paper doily. Salvation, I thought. Again my friend glanced away and I put as much as the gum I could, on the saucer, behind the cup, outside his view. I was free! :D I began eating my soup, grabbing shrimp chips, laughing, talking and smiling.

It was then, when I noticed something strange in my soup: a small pink shrimp. I didn’t remember shrimps in this dish. I caught it with my spoon, put it in my mouth and chewed. Slowly it dawned on me: the peppermint gum was back in my mouth!

My mind raced. How did that happen? I then realized I had set my spoon down on the saucer while eating a shrimp chip and the gum had stuck to the back of the spoon. When I put the spoon in the bowl, the heat had knocked it off. In fact it seemed slightly cooked from swimming in the broth.

With my friend looking my way, I abandoned the hope of making a favorable impression. I took out the gum and placed it on the other edge of the saucer. I had enough and was ready to eat my meal in peace – manners or no manners.

After a year, I met that friend again, and decided to tell him the whole story. To my surprise, he said he hadn’t noticed a thing. I was amazed because I really had been suffering on the other side of that table. Maybe my manners aren’t that bad after all.