There are a few things I miss about SoCal, right now I mostly miss the temperate climate, and of course I miss Trader Joe's - the two nearest to me are in Santa Fe and Albuquerque, not even really close enough for a road trip, that's a three-day excursion. I do miss the weirdos too, though I suppose I'm just used to my Texas weirdos so they don't seem all that weird to me. But yesterday I found myself missing the most improbable thing, something I would never have dreamed had found a spot in my heart.
I miss the Thai menu guy.
Not the guy himself, because, as my SoCal friends are well aware, you never actually see the Thai menu guy. You look away for one moment and when you turn back - BAM! - your bare door knob has become a place to hang the menu for a Thai restaurant. He's a ninja, that Thai menu guy, a shadow moving in the darkness, a whisper on the wind as he passes.
And it's not just the Thai menu guy, although he certainly does leave more than his share. There was the local pizza place menu guy, and the Mexican restaurant menu guy, and the soba noodle place menu guy, and the Cuban menu guy, and even the Jamaican menu guy. It was kind of comforting to come back to my apartment and find a batch of menus hanging on the front gate. It was like menu Christmas. Well, maybe more like Chanukah, where you get presents they're just not amazingly great presents. Menus are good but they don't solve the financial crisis.
I don't get menus on my door here in Texas. From time to time I'll get a folded card for someone who wants to mow my grass or power wash my driveway, but no menus. No friendly reminders that I don't have to cook for myself, and no half-heard swish as the menu ninja escapes into the moonless night.
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