Genghis Powell

I finally got around to doing something that I should've done the day I got here. I went to the Mongolian BBQ across the street from my apartment. Like I've always said, whether you're looking for the conquest of Asia or just some crazy ass BBQ, the Mongols are your people. Those people know how to work it. Also, Mongolian restaurants are nice and calm because you know if anything gets violent, the cooks will beat you, burn your house to the ground, and force you to be a part of their force of marauders. You think work is going to give you time off for that? Hell no, so you better step lightly inside that restaurant.

I think when you go to a restaurant that specializes in the food of a partcular nation or culture, it's like you're giving that group of people a vote of confidence. For instance, if you go to a Mexican restaurant, you are silently saying, "Greetings, people of Mexico. Have I ever told you what my favorite Central American country is? You know, I'm not going to waste our precious time with sweet nothings; I will allow my stomach to display my love for you." Because I believe that, I don't think I'd be likely to go a Nazi restaurant or a restaurant specializing in the food of the Colombian drug cartel.

But Mongolian food? I can support that group like a rampaging sea monster of ethnic support. As far as I am concerned (and many of the people around me), I am the lost, white Mongol, kind of like Hawkeye in the Last of the Mohicans. I can just feel it whenever I step into the Mongolian BBQ restaurants, and it's all I can do to keep myself from getting a bunch of the waiters together to go pillage the Chinese restaurant down the street. Yes, Mongols, I am very fond of you, even though I'm not sure whether I should be referring to you as Mongols or Mongolians. Please do not hold this against me.