Crack Noodles

One of the greatest things about Beijing is that there are many different types of restaurants in this city. For a noodle-lover like me, this means that there are many different kinds of noodles that I can try. This also means many different types of restaurants I can try food at that I'd never be able to try being in small-town Michigan. Ex: Muslim food, Thai food, Vietnamese food, etc. One of my favorite places is a Japanese restaurant that specializes in Japanese Ramen. Persia and I have nicknamed the noodles there "crack-noodles."

The ramen there is the closest to real Japanese ramen that I've ever eaten. There's always a slice of meat, a soft-boiled egg, and the delicious broth that I can't describe. A hint of soy, but the right amount of salt and meaty flavor. The version that I get always has a little seaweed square that I can eat. I honestly wish they'd give more seaweed. Persia likes to get the spicy version. They always serve it with chopsticks and a wooden spoon that you can use to either drink the broth or put the thin noodles on to slurp up that way.

Today, Persia and I were both craving the crack noodles. We ordered, and were a little too happy about our huge bowls of ramen coming our way. Red bowl for the spicy, white bowl for the regular. The restaurant was inside of a mall. We sat next to a window with a fountain-like water display. I had a bad habit of sticking my fingers in the water while waiting for our food. There wasn't an actual window, so when people walked by, we could hear every word they were saying. Bonus points if we both understood that Chinese they were saying.

While we were eating, we heard someone say, "Excuse me!" We looked up. There were two guys looking at us through the invisible window. They looked about 25, with huge grins on their faces. They both had bags from the same store on them. Persia and I looked at each other before saying hello to them. They said hi back while staring right at me. It was pretty awkward.

"Hello," one said after a few awkward seconds, "can you speak Chinese?" Persia and I looked at each other again, smirking.

"A little bit," I replied. They blinked at me, then looked at Persia, who repeated, "just a little bit."

"Okay, thank you!" they said. Then, they giggled and practically ran away from us.

Persia and I sat there in silence for a minute. What just happened? Was I hit on? Was this a weird way to try and get us to buy something? The whole thing was really strange. They never tried to find us again after we left the restaurant. Maybe it's a mystery we'll never solve.