Car ride and looking for food

No home cooked dinner. We ended up having McDonald's outside. How:

Papa, mama, annoying brother and I were in good mood because we're all fat and love food and tonight we were eating outside! We seldom go out for food thanks to my mother's paranoia/love so looking for good food with reasonable price is quite a big deal to this family consisting of fussy people (including me).

-In the car-
"Let's have nga choi kai (芽菜雞, Bean Sprouts Chicken) today. Lately I discovered a place famous for this cuisine," dad suggested. Much to the world's surprise, he emitted a very nice aura today.

"Famous? Then the place will be packed full of customers. We'll have to wait long." Mom stated the obvious.

"Argh, nobody here likes waiting. Why not we go McDonald's?" I made a better suggestion in my opinion. Even though my brother remained silent the entire ride, I knew he was all pumped up inside after hearing the magic word 'McDonald's'.

"McDonald's again? Nah. I don't really like burgers. We'll just try our luck. Besides, if there're too many people, we can still go to other places," mom said what I didn't wish to hear.

"But I still prefer McDonald's more than anything," I spoke to myself in a murmur, nobody noticed that I was pouting in the back seat. I love Big Mac too much and am to straight-minded to like trying new things.

-Reached the place-
"Ah, we found this place! But so many people are waiting outside..." Mom sounded a little disappointed.

Suddenly, my eyes were sparkling; too bad it was too dark to perceive anything. "Then let's go to McDonald's!" I quickly added. But I was ignored. Damn it!

"Nevermind. Let's go to Restaurant A instead," dad made another suggestion. (I can't remember the name of that restaurant so I'll call it Restaurant A.) Restaurant A is one of my father's very few favourite dinning places.

-Reached Restaurant A-
"Ai ya. Someone's having a wedding dinner. No wonder, today's a public holiday. So... where shall we go now?" Mom asked after seeing many happy relatives entering the full-of-happy-people restaurant that was doing a wonderful business thanks to one happy newly-wedded couple. Food services were 'invitation only'.

Yes now's my chance! "How about McDonald's now?"

"Guess we have no choice huh," mom finally spoke my language. I rejoiced mentally. Yes!

-Dad started maneuvering the car to position properly in a not familiar parking lot no where near McDonald's-
"Eh?! We're not going to McDonald's?"

"No, didn't I say just now, we're going to eat pork knuckles at this Brewsterhouse Restaurant!" Mom answered, she was so so excited. I was too busy drooling over an imaginary Big Mac to notice that my parents had changed their minds on the way.

So we went inside said restaurant. We were greeted by a waiter and seated. Though at first sight, I already dislike that waiter. I can tell she's the insincerely nice type from her look and speech. Ignore that. The decorations are antique. Nice ol' china encased behind glasses, ancient portraits with crafted wooden frames on wall, even the chairs and tables gave off the decades-ago feel. A typical western restaurant I say. But when we looked at the menu, our eyes were as big and wide as the china plates displayed.

Rice... rice... Japanese... Japanese... noodles... rice... Japanese.....

This is a fucking Japanese restaurant. Dad confronted that waiter with the not-nice-look for confirmation. And yes, for a restaurant named 'BREWSTERHOUSE' in which Brewster is a WESTERN NAME, with WESTERN ARCHITECTURE and WESTERN DECO, they only serve Nippon jin food. No pork knuckles so sorry folks.

Fantastic news to me! I knew what was my parents' next move yet I was compelled by my bitchiness to say:

"Well? Are we going McDonald's or what?"

"McDonald's it is."

While they were talking about how ridiculous the restaurant were, I secretly smirked my smuggest smirk ever.

Note - This event was excessively dramatised. It wasn't possible for me to write out the actual thing because I don't have a video cam's memory and also I'm very good at lying.