It was a cold and foggy evening in San Francisco, California. After a day of boat tours and taking the wrong buses, it was finally dinner time. My family had decided to go to Chinatown for dinner, knowing the food would be cheap and delicious. As we walked into the restaurant, I started to prepare myself with the knowledge that there might be some crazy foods that I probably wouldn’t feel comfortable eating, but I couldn’t concentrate because of the millions of pigeons flying everywhere. My parents walked in, and my brother, Ryan, and I followed. When the waiter had taken our order, he gave us a soup as an appetizer. My mind kept floating back to the crazy food thought I was making earlier, but I pushed it away and decided to eat it. I started
