A Close Call?

We have had some stomach problems over the past few days so when Tony dropped us off at our hotel he wrote 'diarrhea' in Mandarin on a small slip of paper so we could get the correct medicine at a local pharmacy. On a separate piece of paper he wrote the name and reservation information for our restaurant. Neither included the English translations.

When it was time for dinner we walked in the direction of the restaurant. When I thought we were there I pulled the paper out of my pocket, tapped a guy on the shoulder and then pointed to the paper and the restaurant sign. He nodded and pointed. We then entered the restaurant, rode the elevator to the fifth floor with everyone else in China, where I handed the piece of paper to the greeter. Several women gathered around, examined the paper and consulted with each other before walking us to a table.

As we sat down, it suddenly occurred to me that I may have been showing everyone the wrong piece of paper. Did I ask the guy on the street if this restaurant was a good place to get diarrhea? Did I specifically request that the restaurant prepare foods that would provide certain G.I. distress for a family of westerners? I guess we'll never know.