Ode to Panda Express.

Dear Panda Express,

It's been nearly two years

since I first made your acquaintance.

And it's not a coincidence

that they've been my two best.

I never get tired of

steamed rice,

orange chicken,

and Beijing beef.

Who knew that happiness could be bought

for $7.10?

I've visited you with some of my dearest friends.

You've been there with me on dates.

So many times,

you're the place I go when I'm cranky

and life is hard,

and I just need to eat.

I carry you home,

and eat while I watch Matilda

or Studio C clips.

There was the time

that you were my last meal

before I left for Christmas break,

and my first meal

when I returned.

We don't have you where I come from,

but I once found you in Six Flags in New Jersey,

and my sister loved you as much as I do.

You're the reason

that I can now eat with chopsticks.

You were always patient

when it took me four tries

to get anything into my mouth.

And your fortunes are always perfect.

Like the time you told me

I was sociable and entertaining.

We still have that pinned up on our bulletin board.

Panda,

thank you for all the

unauthentic

Americanized

Chinese food.

Thank you for being close to my apartment,

and close to my heart.

Love,

Rachel