We like to joke that if Uncle P had a business card, it would have to include all of his other jobs. These would include pet boarder, sommelier, and chauffeur, in addition to his actual profession – radiologist.
When Uncle P arrived at the house from LAX with B’s parents and all of their luggage, he told B that he wanted to have lunch that Saturday at a new buffet place he found. Within a few hours though, we got notice that he needed to move it to Sunday. Originally he didn’t give a reason, so I joked that there must be a Laker’s game. We were later told that it was because someone that he invited could not make it on Saturday.
Sunday arrived and we called Uncle P that morning to find out where we were supposed to meet him at 2pm. He told us to meet at a Chinese place where we had actually had lunch with him before. It was about 30 minutes away if traffic wasn’t bad.
B’s parents decided that since they weren’t ready, we should go on ahead, which we did. We were of course, the first ones to arrive. I found a parking spot right out in front of the restaurant, which should have been a dead give away that something was up. Then we saw the sign.
In English and Chinese there was a sign informing us that the restaurant was closed for renovations. In fact, there were workers busy moving tables into a truck parked next to us. It was pretty hot outside, and there was no sign of Uncle P, B’s parents, or the other people we thought were coming.
B called his uncle, who it turned out was just leaving his house. We couldn’t reach B’s parents. We did at least learn that we didn’t need to be on the look out for anyone else. Did I mention it was really hot?
About 10 minutes later Uncle P showed up. Then the Benz pulled into the lot a few minutes later (B’s parents had gotten lost). Now we had to figure out was where to go at 2:30 on a Sunday afternoon for lunch. The buffet place was a bit out of the way from where we were, so we decided on another Chinese place that B liked. At one point though, Uncle P actually had a Chinese yellow pages in his hands. Really.
The funny thing is that this is not the first time that this has happened when we have met Uncle P for lunch. It was a few years ago, but he invited us out to dim sum near the house, only to arrive to find the door literally chained. I guess they went out of business (rather suddenly actually). There was also the time we arrived at a restaurant to find them setting up for a wedding, but it turned out he knew about that and we had a private room. None of this was really anyone’s fault. It is just interesting to note.
Lunch was okay, although we mostly talked about blood pressure. At least both Uncle P and his wife are doctors, so they can keep the Beast’s “medical advice” in check. Still, when you are passing seaweed fried fish (better than it sounds) and green onion pancakes around the table, who wants to be reminded of such things.
Here I should probably point out that although we had agreed to not tell them about B’s high blood pressure, and how he was diagnosed, B decided to let the cat out of the bag. He didn’t tell them everything, but this is why we were talking about blood pressure. It turns out the PM has low blood pressure, although he only seems to get it checked out at the club where he plays golf. Meanwhile the Beast has perfect blood pressure (120/80), although for whatever reason feels it is high and doesn’t like testing herself at places like Walgreen’s.