Kickboxing and Spicy Soup Part 2: The Heartbreak


Kickboxing was going well. We had a strict regimen that often included weekends. We ate spicy soup almost every time we worked out (except Fridays, as it was too crowded).
Now it should be noted that the city of Los Angeles employs a rating system that is meant to keep eating establishments sanitary. The citations range from admissible to nauseating, although I’ve eaten at restaurants with ratings from A to C without avail. Palms has a B, and Palms would prove their B-ness in one of the most emotionally painful food experiences I’ve ever had.
The staff at Palms knew us after a few months, and often put in our order as we were walking in the door (pot of Spicy Fish, Seafood or Shrimp Soup, very very spicy, white rice). Sometime in June we ordered the usual. And as usual it was delicious, until…
the inevitable finally happened. We found a bug in the soup. It was like walking in on your significant other cheating on you. That’s the only way to explain the feeling. The bug was long and thin, with wings. It most likely made its way in on the produce. It was not a cockroach. It sent our world into a tailspin.
(…to be concluded…)

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