Cooking Ramen
Ok so I told myself to write a super short story about Ramen so let’s see if I can take on this challenge.
It was a friday night around eleven thirty. There were no plans for the man named Ando. He sat comfortably and exercised his fragile right thumb on a button made to sample the different networks on his little light box. He sat with a blank face for about an hour until an advertisement screamed at him. It was Chinese food. He then ran straight to his phone book, “there must be a place open right now!” He flipped through the book and discovered that ten pm is the limit at most place. The sadness rushed through his vains, with a bitter sweet taste of anxiety. He was an old man, so he sat down to rest. He stared at his reflection on the table. He hasn’t shaved in awhile. “If I can’t order chinese food I’ll make it myself. I may not be a chef, but i know I’ve lived long enough to make my own food!” He finished his sentence with his index finger pointing towards the roof. He scanned his finger and noticed the grey hairs peeked at him, “I must be getting old, I’m beginning to talk to myself.”
He ran to the kitchen pulled open his cabinets and began to scan. “Do I have rice? No. Do I have chicken? No. Ugh. I know I should’ve gone grocery shopping!” He slamed the doors above his electric powered oven. He walked over to his collection of liquor bottles, randomly grabed one, and poured two shots. “One for me and one for me.” He takes one shot then suddenly realized to himself, “ramen is good enough.” He filled a pot with unfiltered water and turned on his stove. He ripped open the noodles, broke them in half, and tossed them in the pot. “Alright now I just need to wait till it begins to boil. He walks back to the television to watch more random programs.
After sitting and browsing a few channels he noticed a hunger pain so he goes to station primarily involving food. The first show he saw ended with a winner holding up a golden sandwich award. “Pizza! Pizza! Pizza!” the television hollered. “Delivery open all night Fridays to Sundays.” The old man peered down at his watch, “One am? Looks like I’m going to get some pizza.” He walked to his phone book, found the number, and ordered a medium cheese pizza. He sat behind the front door and waited.
Ding Dong! “Looks like it’s here”, he told himself with a huge smile. He answered the door holding up his perfectly fine back. “Yes?” he said in a groggy and oblivious tone. “Your pizza sir?” He waited about five seconds till he decided to answer, “Pizza? I aint order no pizza? Who the hell are you?” The pizza delivery guy panicked, begins to walk away and assured the old man, “I’m sorry sir this wont happen again.” The old man begins to rage, “You better not be leaving with my pizza!” “So you’re going to pay for it?” “I aint paying shit. you have them take it out of your pay check for being careless!” “But sir?” “You really going to argue with an old man, I’ll have your boss know…” Then the worker cuts him off, “Sorry sir I’ll have my boss know. You can have this pizza free.” The old man happily takes the pizza and slams the door.
He walked to his dining room and ate three slices. “What’s that horrible smell”, he asked himself. He followed it into the kitchen, there he finds a full shot rum and some over cooked romen. He ran straight for his phone. Slowly while trembling he picked it up. “Hello this is 911 what is your emergency?” He was shaking vigorously, “Hello, someone, someone broke into my house.”
