It’s not often that I open a door to a restaurant and I feel so out of place. Today a part of me wanted to turn around but the other part pushed me through the door. After all, if I turned around at the door I’d not only look more awkward but I’d look rude, and I was going to need to sketch it at some point. I should say the Oasis wasn’t particularly scary or intimidating but is was definitely the best place for AUTHENTIC asian food, which I know absolutely nothing about- although I wish I did.

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It wasn’t overly crowded during lunch but it was busy and everyone was eating stuff I’d never seen before, the asian market next door was attached to the restaurant, and yes, I was the only white person. I feel like a clumsy, rude, and ignorant “American” when I say I’m not even sure what region or regions the people or food at this restaurant come from. I really really wished I’d had one of my international grad school friends here to help me. Since I lacked any, I stuck with the americanized chinese menu I could read…which was tasty but certainly didn’t look as good a the steaming bowl of whatever those people over there were eating. I might have said “I’ll have what they are having.” except it was served family style, over warming plates, and seemed to be enough to feed several more people. It was certainly more food than I needed. Oh well, thankfully I had my sketchbook, I didn’t catch anyone staring at me, if I was being talking about (which I doubt) I couldn’t tell, so I set to work.

I ate sesame chicken with white rice and it came with a bowl of wonton soup.

I listened – well I had no idea – to one seemingly pretentious and obnoxious college guy, who was talking loudly on his cell phone – I assume- to the friends who joined him about 10 minutes later. Classiness knows no race or gender.