Jasmyne Tea

The Worst Meal I Ever Had

Ok, I have to admit that there have been some disgusting things in my mouth.

(I'll just wait for you to pick your mind back up out of the gutter before I continue.)

I've eaten dirt; I've almost swallowed an insect; I've even had a shot of soy sauce straight from Green Valley's Golden King 2000, which most locals will know is an impressive feat considering it has been sitting on the tables there for at least 20 years, and has the consistency of tar.

But this is by far the worst thing I've ever tasted:

It's called Uncle Chin's chicken rice. I don't know who Uncle Chin is or why he's cooking my food, but he is clearly a sadist. The "chicken" was dry and had the texture of overdone pork, while still retaining the chewiness under the skin that is undercooked fat. The rice disintegrated at the slightest touch. We were on a 10 hour flight with a 5 hour stop over.

I ordered some pringles and ribena and decided to eat at the KL airport.

I had always thought people complaining about plane food were just exaggerating - I'd only ever flown Qantas and Virgin, and the food was pretty decent. I was wrong.

Well, thank you AirAsia for proving the myth of Plane Food true. Anything you can do about Loch Ness?

Share your worst plane food stories below, so I can feel better with the fact that people are in the same boat - er, plane.

Dear Randoms on the City via Granville Line...

Let me set the scene for you: it's 8 am, I'm on my way to work via a CityRail train, and I'm not in the greatest of moods after finding that my uniform didn't dry properly and the EFTPOS on the ticket machines stopped working. After being waylaid by an old lady who couldn't read the digital displays and a horde of young school children who I'd like to smack but probably shouldn't, I've missed my train and am running late. By the time I actually manage to get on the train, I'm pretty pissed off.

Then two stops later YOU get on the train. You check out the ample seating on the other side of the carriage, but decide that the empty can on the floor in front of the seat is off-putting enough to warrant sitting on my side. Ok, fair enough. But there's enough space beside me for a Tongan football team; the train is practically empty. Why are you sitting pressed against me?!? WHY ARE YOU ALL UP IN MY GRILL?

This is my dance space. This is your dance space. I don't go into yours, you don't go into mine.

Sincerely,

A commuter with personal  boundaries.