3:30 Peanuts

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So I have diabetes, and I’m not supposed to let my blood sugar drop too low. So at 3:30 every day at work I open a new vacuum sealed package of peanuts. It’s better than a carby snack, and it’s more easily available than some kind of meat snack, and besides, peanuts in China are GOOD; they’re snappier than American peanuts, and the salt here tastes much better for some reason; less chemical. Also, they’re seasoned with a dried chili pepper and I think a little sugar. My nutritionist would not approve, but she can go to hell.

Anyway, A, L and I almost every day shared 3:30 peanuts; now A has gone home, so JL has joined our table and he LOVES 3:30 peanuts. Today, at our table, we had a French-off, that is, we all spoke French, and the first person to not speak French would have to buy 3:30 peanuts. JL lost the French-off, but buying peanuts is hardly a punishment. After all, they cost… (wait for it…) peanuts.

So we’ve had lunch late two days in a row. Yesterday it was because the delivery man got lost, and the Korean resaurant we order from is slow as hell anyway. Today it was because we refused to pay for the Moroccan food we ordered, since the portions were so tiny we thought it was a mistake.

Anyway, the point is we ate lunch late, and so we didn’t really have 3:30 peanuts until 4pm. Today was funny, because I was in a meeting, and on my way back to my desk, C chides me for missing my 3:00 lap around the office. I grew up in Olympia, Washington, a government town, where 15-minute break every 120 minutes is mandatory. Mandatory as in, “Hey, GO ON YOUR BREAK.” So I told C that yah, due to the late lunch my lap schedule is off, haven’t even had 3:30 peanuts yet… his eyes get big and he says, can I join you for 3:30 peanuts? The answer of course, is yes. Always.

I get back to my desk, and immediately get called into another meeting. As I walk away, JL asks me, meek and excited at the same time, can I open the peanuts? It’s funnier in Spanish, because the word for peanuts is “cacahuetes” or “cacahuates” and it’s just a hard word to sound macho saying. Bust ’em open, dude, and C wants some too…

A few minutes later, I come out of the meeting, and look for peanuts in the dish, but JL says, no, I didn’t want to open them without you. This is too funny. At this point, I’m walking out the door with the office manager and the accountant, off to the bank. You better open them, I say, don’t wait for me!

The office manager and accountant want to know what is so funny, and I know it’s going to be a hard story to explain, especially in Chinese. So I just say, we foreigners are very strange.

Of course, that peaks their interest even more, so when they ask me to explain, I say, oh, we foreigners are strange, 3:30 peanuts are very important to us.

Being Chinese, of course, they are surprised and amused that we have become so absorbed with peanuts as to create an institution as arbitrary as 3:30 peanuts. Why peanuts? Why 3:30?

And what am I supposed to say? I mean, I eat 3:30 peanuts because of diabetes, but I don’t know about A, L, L, or C… they are young, healthy, non diabetic, but are just as into 3:30 peanuts as I am. We foreigners are strange.

So I tell them in Chinese: 3:30 peanuts are delicious. Aslo, Chinese peanuts compared to American peanuts are much more delicious. They are not the same. Chinese peanuts are so good. I love my home country, but I must say, American peanuts do not have the flavorfullness of Chinese peanuts. Chinese peanuts are the best.

So then they say, well then why 3:30? You can eat these peanuts any time of day!

What am I supposed to say?

You’ll see, I tell them. Tomorrow, I will offer you 3:30 peanuts, you will eat, you will see. 3:30 is the best time for peanuts. 3:30 peanuts are important to us now. We foreigners are strange. I know you Chinese people discuss that we are strange.

They laughed and denied it.

When I get back from the bank, JL is halfway done with the little bag, and says, sorry JP, I couldn’t wait for you anymore. I think he was half kidding. And when I say half kidding, I mean he was half serious as well; a little bit remorseful for not waiting for me. Don’t be sorry, I say. Eat peanuts, for goodness sakes. JL is a good man.