We decided to order Chinese tonight. I was beat, having driven to San Francisco and back to take Megan to a birthday party, and needed an easy night.
To first clue to the pending disaster might have been that the restaurant we found didn't have lo mein or wontons or brown rice. Our food arrived quickly, but what we got was not recognizable. We still don't know what kind of sauce they put on the sesame chicken. We ended up throwing it all out.
Experiences like this are the worst part of moving.
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