B

I give to you a true story in 2 times eleventy-one words...

‘What’s the strangest thing on the menu?’ Chad asked the pubescent Cambodian waiter.

The waiter smiled and nodded, a trick I often encourage if you’ve no idea what’s being said.

Chad chuckled with exasperation. He looked back at the menu – written entirely in Khmer, but with pictures – and then back up at the waiter, ‘Do you have any bugs or insects?’

The waiter smiled more widely, nodded more vigorously.

‘Bzz?’

‘Bzz?’ the waiter responded curiously.

Chad pointed excitedly at the menu and reiterated, ‘bzz.’

The waiter contemplated for a moment, then said, ‘B.’

‘B?’ Chad inquired.

‘B.’

‘B?’

‘B. Bzz.’

Chad considered, then his face brightened, ‘Bee! Bzz! I’ll take that!’

-

Shortly thereafter, we were served something akin to a small casserole. Rectangular and brown in color, it sat upon a banana leaf.

‘I guess it’s a free appetizer, maybe something to cleanse the palate,’ he commented. He tried it. ‘A weird texture. Gritty but a little sweet.’

I tasted it and confirmed his assessment.

‘But what is it?’

I shrugged.

Chad called the waiter over. ‘What is this?’

‘B.’

‘B?’ He paused. ‘Oh, bee! This is bee? Wait, what?’

Chad was flummoxed. The waiter tried to find the words to explain. Then, it hit him.

‘B baby.’

‘B baby?’

‘Baby bzz.’

‘Bee babies? Oh, larvae!’

The waiter nodded.

We laughed.