Last week, I called the man behind the counter at Tandoor “Dad.” It definitely wasn’t on purpose, but I would be lying if I said it was a complete accident. I’m not sure what came over me, maybe it was the stress of having to choose only three toppings out of the plethora of hot wet meats and moist yet dry vegetables; maybe it was the slight glisten of sweat above his mustache which reminded me of my late night wrestling sessions with my uncle or maybe it was those strong, calloused, experienced hands that told me, “you’ll never be as good as your brother.” So I said it: “dad.” He gave me a look, the one of confusion and disappointment that told me to say it again, louder and clearer, one that convinced me that I should call him “dad” again. I paused, straightening my back whilst clearing my throat, this time adding a little swagger to my step. “Father,” I said with a little more confidence, however the intensity of the situation causing me to leak out a small streak of urine down my thigh. I have since returned each day, mixing and matching different combinations of my order, hoping to gain his approval, hoping that one day, he’ll proudly call me “son.” I guess West “Union” really does bring us all together.
Jaida is our team’s number two food reviewer who started writing for Department Of in 2016. About 5 foot 2, Jaida can be found with his navy blue, noise cancelling BOSE™ headphones that he bought before, not after, Reese, playing imaginary drums with replica, limited edition, Metallica, drum sticks on the C3 Class Exchange. He is in the same fraternity as Reese but occupies a lower position in their hierarchy.