Somethin' Bad's Goin Down at the Changs.

I will never eat at PF Changs again.
So let it be written.
So let it be done.

Okay, maybe not ever. But at least not for a few months. Unless The Attorney General wants to go there. 

And if David is actually willing to buy? Then baby, I'm going.

I love PF Changs. I do. I love their lettuce wraps all filled to the brim. Even though, in my opinion, they over do on the lettuce and under do on the filling. I love their fried rice and kung pao chicken. I love their crispy honey chicken. And I would put my mom up for sale on Craig's List for one bite of their The Great Wall of Chocolate.

On this particular day I went in innocently enough - me and the Attorney General (David) and Remi and my mom and dad. Rocco refused to go. Rocco refuses to eat anywhere that might serve something green on his plate. It had been a long day of shopping and like most over-fed Americans, we weren't looking for any trouble. But dear friends, boy did we find some. I, particularly, found some at the bottom of a bowl of hot & spicy soup. Normally, this little appetizer would delight and warm me. But on this day, it tried to murder me. 

I got up and went to the ladies room around 12:15 and I didn't see the light of day until about 2:30. I kid you not. My mom said she half expected me to walk out with a makeover or something since I was in there so long. 

The following is a list of what I experienced when I was left to die, in stall number 3, at The Woodlands Texas PF Changs...

• I experienced two teenage girls who came in giggling, texted three boys from their school - Chet, Burke and Jay - and made plans later that night to "hook up" with them at the movies. (*To the mama's of anyone named Chet, Burke and Jay: keep those boys inside!!) All the while I am trying to give off silent warnings of them to leave. For the Love of God and all that is Holy: please leave! They can't hear me over their giggles.

• An older lady comes in (I am guessing on the age, I couldn't see her face but could smell her cologne: Red Door by Elizabeth Arden) and decides stall 1 and stall 2 are not to her liking and will lean against the wall and wait on stall 3. WHY GOD? WHY? Why do people do this?? Don’t they know someone is planning their funeral in stall number 3?? I place my head in my hands and pray for it to all be over. Finally, after me having 3 cold sweats and 1 near fainting spell she relents, turns on her heels and leaves. I imagine she went back to her table and said, “Someone in stall number 3 must’ve had the hot & spicy soup.” 

• Remi comes in and taps on my door. 

"Momma, are you all right?"

"Go away."
"Dad wanted me to come and ask."
"GO away."
"Nonie also wants to know if you happened to see her new earrings. She couldn't find them this morning and she said that sometimes you steal things..."
"I have not seen them! I did not steal them! GO AWAY." “She also said to remind you to go and buy some Big Sexy Hairspray and that as long as we are at a mall, you could use a new bra...”

“GET OUT OR IMMA KILL YOU, KID!”

“I’m telling Nonie.”

Once Remi leaves, I scramble to the sink and run cold water on to some paper towels. I make my way back to my new home and sit on the toilet, burying my face in the towels. It’s lovely here. I will die here, now. 

This is the part where I begin to pray my last and final prayers: I pray to God to bless my husband with a good woman who is fun (but not that fun), cheap (Dave Ramsey cheap. Not hooker cheap) and fluffier than me. I pray for Remi to grow up and be a godly woman who will inherit the White House and never ever go on The Bachelor. I pray Rocco learns to eat vegetables to combat his almost daily constipation issues. And then I commit my soul to Him and ask Him to please come quickly and take me. 

45 minutes later and I am not dead. But barely. 

I walk out of the stall to find...

• Felicia-the-Realtor still on the phone discussing her “big call.” I hope she makes a million dollars off this call or otherwise this whole call is one gigantic waste of time. 

• The two teenagers sitting slumped over at their parents table while texting underneath the table cloth. “Is it just y’all going to the movies?” The mom asks. “Duh! Who else would go??” They reply. This is the circle of life with teenagers, I suppose. 

• Red Door by Elizabeth Arden passes me to give stall number 3 a shot. She is in there for all of 2 seconds. Apparently stall number 3 was not up to snuff. And let me tell ya, no amount of Red Door is gonna solve that problem.