The King's Meal

Last night I met Diana at SuRa: The King's Meal, a Korean restaurant on 9th street. I arrived early and settled into a table by the window. Bach as performed on what could have been a traditional stringed instrument filtered through the sound system. An older white couple sat nearby, talking about the food. "This rice is incredible!" the woman said. "It's a vegetarian meal isn't it?" "I think there's a little pork," the man replied.

The waiter brought over a glass of water. "I need to tell you that we're out of the white tuna and the Chilean sea bass," he said. "So if you were thinking of the white tuna salad . . . " I told him I had just been eyeing the salad. "We do have two specials," he said by way of apology, and introduced a kalbi and red snapper entree.

Diana arrived a few minutes later. I told her about the lack of white tuna and sea bass. "We're out of here," she joked. We ordered drinks and then dinner. She ordered the spicy octopus and I ordered a stone bowl bibimbop. The waiter said the octopus was very spicy. Diana said that was ok. The waiter returned a moment later to apologize. They were out of the octopus, but they could substitute calimari. She said that was fine.

We drank. The white couple left and a table of Asians arrived. Otherwise, we had the restaurant to ourselves. After the table had been cleared and we were on our second round of drinks, the waiter approached the table with a polaroid camera. "I have to take pictures of the customers for our wall. Would you mind?" I looked at Diana and she shrugged. The waiter took our picture and left the polaroid on the table.

When it had finished developing I said I liked it. It made us look like we were eating at a small bar in Vietnam. Or something. The waiter said he'd take another photo and posed us on a banquet. He asked us to write our names on the frame with a black magic marker and took it away. "Let's get ice cream," Diana said.

On our way out, I noticed the photo board for the first time. It hung in the vetibule, and the waiter pointed out our picture. The other group of Asians was also leaving and he pointed out their photo. "Happy birthday" was written on the frame. I wished them a happy birthday and Diana and I walked out onto the street. For a moment I was disoriented, but Diana led the way. We walked east. Posted by eku at August 19, 2005 10:03 AM