That's the greeting we get when we call our local chinese take out place. "Yeaah, numba wahn," is probably closer to what is actually said- but that could be construed as being in poor taste on my part (note to self: delete last sentence). On the lovely two-color menu it says "Lucky lucky lucky No. 1," and states "We cater for all parties." Bar-Mitzvah? You're covered. Flag Day celebration? They don't discriminate. Cat's birthday? As long as they didn't use your cat to make the mu shu pork, you're good to go (okay that one was too easy).
Bottom line is, whatever greasy concoction it is, is usually pretty damn good. And every time we order delivery, we give our address and say we are in apt. 4J. To which they always respond: "J like John or girl?" Yes...really. And it does vary a little, like last night she made a guess at it and just said, "J like girl?" To which I respond J like John, but always wanting to add- now be a good jirl and bring me my food. But I don't.
They do a good job at No. 1 Chinese. And I don't mean to poke fun, but it's just so darn amusing to me. Who could ask for more- it's quick, it's cheap, and it's entertaining. And, now I've got some left over sesame chicken in fridge for lunch, so it must be my lucky lucky luck day.
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