I'm writing a 1950's novel, and there is a scene where Jack, the main character, is invited to a chinese restaurant by his friend Chang to discuss what Chang had been an eyewitness to. Include Jack being somewhat bewildered by chopsticks. It should be in first person.
system
I'm writing a 1950's novel, and there is a scene where Jack, the main character, is invited to a chinese restaurant by his friend Chang to discuss what Chang had been an eyewitness to. Include Jack being somewhat bewildered by chopsticks. It should be in first person.
user
Chang had told me he wanted to meet up after work. I was expecting to meet up at a bar or something, so imagine my surprise when I turned up at the address and looked up to see all these swoopy letters I didn't understand. 

Now I wasn't so dense that I didn't realize this was some kind of restaurant, but I nevertheless hadn't ever been to one of these places. There was a takeout place back home called Wong's my folks and I patronized from time to time but they didn't have any seats or nothing. 

Still, I saw Chang wave me over the moment I walked in so at least I got the address right. I asked him about what he'd seen back at the warehouse on Thursday but he waved me off. Something about leaving business until after dinner. My curiosity was still burning in my mind about what he'd seen, but I figured I could eat.

Soon a large plate of mixed vegetables and beef was placed before me. I'd have happily dug in right then and there, but they didn't give me a spoon or fork! Just two sticks to my side. I looked at Chang with confusion, and he just nodded and said "chopsticks", as if that was all I needed to know. I politely excused myself to the restroom. 

When I came back, I saw Chang with his own pair of sticks somehow perched between his fingers. I had no idea how but he was deftly eating with one hand and chatting with the waiter at the same time. In my pocket, I tried to mimic the same hand position as I made my way back to the seat. I didn't want Chang to think I was some sort of palooka. 

For the rest of the meal, I kept an eye on Chang, thankful he and the waiter seemed to know each other. That took the heat off my side of the conversation as I mangled the noodles in front of me, stopping and smiling anytime someone looked in my direction. As I'd later learned, this was a fruitless effort, given I was beet red with embarrassment the whole time!
assistant
<|system|>
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<|user|>
I'm writing a 1950's novel, and there is a scene where Jack, the main character, is invited to a chinese restaurant by his friend Chang to discuss what Chang had been an eyewitness to. Include Jack being somewhat bewildered by chopsticks. It should be in first person.</s>
<|assistant|>
Chang had told me he wanted to meet up after work. I was expecting to meet up at a bar or something, so imagine my surprise when I turned up at the address and looked up to see all these swoopy letters I didn't understand. 

Now I wasn't so dense that I didn't realize this was some kind of restaurant, but I nevertheless hadn't ever been to one of these places. There was a takeout place back home called Wong's my folks and I patronized from time to time but they didn't have any seats or nothing. 

Still, I saw Chang wave me over the moment I walked in so at least I got the address right. I asked him about what he'd seen back at the warehouse on Thursday but he waved me off. Something about leaving business until after dinner. My curiosity was still burning in my mind about what he'd seen, but I figured I could eat.

Soon a large plate of mixed vegetables and beef was placed before me. I'd have happily dug in right then and there, but they didn't give me a spoon or fork! Just two sticks to my side. I looked at Chang with confusion, and he just nodded and said "chopsticks", as if that was all I needed to know. I politely excused myself to the restroom. 

When I came back, I saw Chang with his own pair of sticks somehow perched between his fingers. I had no idea how but he was deftly eating with one hand and chatting with the waiter at the same time. In my pocket, I tried to mimic the same hand position as I made my way back to the seat. I didn't want Chang to think I was some sort of palooka. 

For the rest of the meal, I kept an eye on Chang, thankful he and the waiter seemed to know each other. That took the heat off my side of the conversation as I mangled the noodles in front of me, stopping and smiling anytime someone looked in my direction. As I'd later learned, this was a fruitless effort, given I was beet red with embarrassment the whole time!</s>
