One BMW, Well-done

You didn't believe me when I said, "I am the King of Take Out. The Tsar of Take Away, bow to my greatness."

http://writeprocrastinator.blogspot.com/2006/05/random-musings-bruisings-aloe-scented.html

How would I quantify or qualify for this? Because every restaurant I go to, the people know me like Norm. Because every restaurant I go to, they offer me a glass of water or the occasional appetizer, unlike everybody else who places a take out order.

No one has offered to name their firstborn after me, but this is as inevitable as the Brad-gelina breakup. Though I do understand the hesitation on their part as "Write Nguyen," "Procrastinator Chomanan," or "Write Del Escritor" does not exactly roll off the tongue.

Tonight, Procrastinator Jr. and myself stopped off first Mihn Tri Vietnamese Restaurant http://sanfrancisco.citysearch.com/review/908982
and ordered some:

A) Bi Cuon-Vietnamese spring rolls with shredded pork, mint leaves, lettuce and rice noodles. The outer skin is like a soft tortilla and is made out of rice paper. The outer skin is not deep-fried.
B) Tasty Beef-The one and only reason why I go exclusively to this restaurant for a Vietnamese dinner. Eggplant, beef, garlic, onions, and (scrambled) eggs sauteed.
C) Ginger Chicken-Succulent chicken and a few green beans sauteed with a jullianed ginger sauce.
D) Broccoli Beef-Beef and broccoli sauteed in a fermented bean sauce, though it tastes more like oyster sauce to me.

Then it was off to the ATM and Jamba Juice because the kid eats none of the above and he needs his fiber. While we're waiting for two Mango-a-go-go's and a Peach Pleasure, a BMW five-series (a 1986 535, if I had to guess) that was diagonally across the street, started to smoke. I pointed this out to Procrastinator Jr. who was fidgeting with his cell phone. To all parents and future parents, smoking cars beat out video games and just about anything else when it comes to grabbing attetion.

A couple of people in the Jamba Juice shop noticed it and then, the people behind the counter did too. The smoke increased and intensified, then the engine bay caught fire. First it was a small rolling fire, then it started to spill over the upturned-hood and finally, it spilled out of the opened right passenger door.

The cashier at Jamba rightfully asked if anyone had called 911, since it seems that all of us were stuck in rubberneck mode. A couple of us surmised that someone must have and they did, as the firetruck arrived some three minutes after she said that. In the meantime, the guy that was busiest behind the counter finally looked up and noticed the BMW. He said, "hey...that car is on fire!" Most of the customers and help laughed at his tardiness with a nervous edge, because there was the possibility that someone was hurt.

Procrastinator Jr. and I exited the shop as the fire truck arrived. I told him to pull his shirt up and cover his mouth as the acrid smell and burnt plastic smoke were a bit overwhelming. I called the Missus and told her about what happened, all the while the streets are black and grey.

We sought refuge in Mihn Tri and the owner's wife thought it was some overzealous idiot with too much lighter-fluid in the barbecue, since only so much of the smoke made it into the restaurant.

I explained to her that it was the fire causing that and she and one of the cooks went outside. Most of the fire was out by then, but the smell lingered. So much so that the Missus could smell it once she got off the phone with me and our house is some ten blocks away. I don't know if anyone was hurt, but kudos to the San Francisco Fire Department for so quickly dispatching the fire.