The fat woman looked at him, quite contemptuously, as if he was lying.
“Even sweet and sour chicken?”
“No ma’am.”
“Is this a joke?” she shrieked, waving her huge purse at the poor waiter.
“No ma’am,” he said, sounding even more tired.
“Chicken with herbs? Hot and spicy chicken in Caribbean style? Enchilada?”
“No ma’am.”
“Moroccan chicken stew? Malaysian chicken? Chicken curry with potatoes?”
“No ma’am.”
“Not even something simple, like salted chicken deep-fried in butter?”
“The town has run out of chicken, ma’am,” he said.
“How can any place run out of chicken?” the woman asked, exasperated, because she was already dreaming of chicken dripping with the sweet and sour combination only Chin Loong could make. The waiter mumbled some more apologies, and recommended the sweet and sou
