Last night I had a wild night of Chinese-food-ordering with my sister and brother-in-law. We tried a new place called Pig Heaven, for no other reason than it is called Pig Heaven (ok, we heard they had good ribs. But that’s clearly secondary to the name.)

Steph was super excited (re: she sort of half-smiled) about the roast duck entrée which, of course, as any good Jew on Passover knows, can only be eaten with flour pancakes…from a place called PIG HEAVEN. (side note: is it still Passover? I rely on my non-jewish friends to tell me this, in the same way they text me “Happy Hanukkah” and I get all excited because “It’s Hanukkah?!?”)

Anyway, we put in the order, and when it arrived, we got this note, written in the most perfectly stereotypical broken English:

In case you missed that– 80 CENTS. The pancake was 80 CENTS. But Steph’s phone died so they couldn’t reach her to tell her that. Instead, they went out of their way to reject our request, all in the name of 80 cents, even though I’m fairly certain that the time/resources used to carry out said rejection (pen, ink, paper, transliteration, calling phone, googling how to spell “cuz”) came out to at least a dollar.

So if you live on the upper east side in NYC, please join us in boycotting this establishment (at least until the next time we’re craving ribs. Those were fucking delicious.)