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“It was crowded, and the staff were busy serving food and checking out. But the food was good and filling and the price was not bad. It's probably one of the cheapest places you can find in the park. Just get in line, decide which menu you would get, and tell the number of that menu.“
“It’s me Anderson again, and I need to report a Panda Express incident of extreme importance.
I ordered the Chow Mein, the Roll, and that new spicy chicken, and I honestly think I shouldn’t have been left alone with it.
The Chow Mein hit my brain like it unlocked a memory I don’t remember living. I took a bite and just stared into space like, “yeah this is where I belong now.” Noodles were doing emotional damage in a comforting way.
Then the Roll showed up acting innocent. Soft. Warm. Suspiciously perfect. I squeezed it and it gave me zero resistance like it accepted its fate. I ate it and briefly forgot all my problems, my responsibilities, and my bank account.
Another the spicy chicken.
Bro. That chicken didn’t just come out spicy—it came out with attitude. First bite was like, “oh this is nice.” Second bite was like, “why is my mouth negotiating terms and conditions?” Third bite? I was actively blinking in Morse code for help.
At one point I was just sitting there sweating, eating noodles to calm down, biting the roll for emotional support, and getting emotionally bullied by chicken at the same time.
It was chaos. Delicious, crispy, slightly painful chaos.
If I ever end up on my death bed, don’t call a priest first. Call Panda Express. Bring the Chow Mein, the Roll, and that spicy chicken and let me go out questioning my life choices in peace.“