Chicken or Beef?

My mom refused to go to her coworkers engagement party because the certain Otar coworker asked her if she would prefer eating chicken or beef at the engagement. My mother was offended by that question, in fact, she was outraged.

I woke up late this morning, well I woke up around 8 am which means I was going to be late to class, so I didn't bother going to class since I assumed that driving to Westwood at that time would be hell. I simply went to the kitchen got some homemade coffee that I firmly believe tastes more like crap than coffee, but either way, it was warm So it almost hit the spot. Then I went to the living room and sat besides my mother and her friend when they were having their morning American brewed coffee.

"I am not surprised one bit," said my mother's friend, "Remember the kids baptism? My husband's partner was there too, remember? He's white, che? OKay, well, he was in heaven with all the food that was on the tables, and all the alcohol? You know, at the Otar people's special occasions, you have to buy the alcohol by the glass at the bar, these people are just different."

As I sat there and listened to their conversation, I began to join in. ( I am about to turn 20, so I have decided that I am going to conversate with grown ups from now on. ) I began saying that, Otars appreciate our ways of doing things, though. I recalled the numerous Sweet 16s years ago, where the friends from school who weren't Armenian would try to learn how to dance under Armenian music and they would always try all the food that was on the table.

"You know, I have noticed that too," said my mom's friend, "After the baptism, my husband's partner did his wedding at Yepremian, in the small room - I mean, he doesn't really have a lot of people - but, still. The tables were full of food, and free alcohol. All the guests thought that the wedding cost him a fortune, when in reality it was only 25 dollers per person. And I decided that since the best man, my husband, is Armenian, there should be Armenian music. So, I went and got the Armenchik CD from my car and gave it to the DJ. Everyone was trying to dance under that music."

I nodded as I listened. My mother was still a bit amazed at how anshnork the otars can be, however she realized that they were willing to accept our ways of life. Living in Los Angeles, CA, early on a Tuesday morning, as my mother was taking her last sips of American brewed coffee before she left for work at an American corporation, she theorized "Otars are defenitely beginning to act respectful towards us. They don't ask me what I would prefer eating at a reception, I told them they should decide. Ha, mi ban el, My boss said that he has been to an Armenian wedding and knows that he should not eat all that's on the table at once, because there is always more plates coming. hahaha"

When I finished my coffee, I realized. Armenians are heading in an odd direction, they are Armo-washing everyone, one business partner at a time.

I heard Hispanics are having Quinces at Anoush nowadays...