Quick hit: If I die from disappointment, please make sure to have Chinese food at my wake

From D.W.: Apologies for being a bit late with this week's Remix. It's been a busy week for me, and I'm working on a big project for this site that will rollout with the beginning of lent. So stay tuned for that.

Relatedly, this is going to be a quick-hit post. A short one. A little look at exactly what was grinding Rachel's gears on this day, exactly 10 years ago: bad hot and sour soup. I think that, in these confusing times, it's something we can all relate to.

Facebook. February 8th. 2016

First world problem rant:

I had the most disappointing bowl of hot and sour soup for lunch today. No tofu. No mushrooms. Not hot with spice OR WITH ACTUAL HEAT. Frankly, not even really sour. It's not gazpacho, so one would reason hot and sour soup would be served AT A NORMAL SOUP TEMPERATURE, but it wasn't even slightly tepid. I would have sent it back, but our waitperson ghosted us. I don't really blame her, because if the kitchen was sending out the kind of swill we were served to every other table, I'm sure the poor girl was just trying to find a place to hide. I felt for her, because she and one other server were trying to deal with an entire room full of lunch time patrons, and she didn't cook the food. Also, I'm not entirely sure what the fine folks in the kitchen actually dressed my potstickers with, but it definitely looked like something someone had already eaten and rejected but actually smelled like chicken even though the potstickers were allegedly pork. If I die from disappointment, please make sure to have Chinese food at my wake, mkay?

Thank God my cousin kept me from putting my hands on someone...because OMG, THE RAGE.