In a startling move virtually unheard of before this very moment, you, Banky Hobex, stood up and decided to go to eat Chinese food. Of course, since you've never been out to eat before, your triumphant march downstairs from your average office building sent a shockwave through most of your company's employees. Some cheered, some hissed, and a few even passed out. In a moment of sheer chaos, a twenty-five-year-old girl hurled a purple bra in your direction, screaming in an ear-piercing manner something about the New Kids On The Block. It lands on your head, and you, confused, take the bra and stick it in your back pocket.

Outside the door, you realize that you must walk to this Chinese restaurant which, unfortunately, you don't know the whereabouts of. Lucky for you, though, you spot Wong's Fast Food Chinese across the street. What luck, Banky!

As you step into Wong's, the collective smells of oil and lemon chicken and some kind of bean sprout rush into your face, and you quickly get a bloody nose. Wong comes over with a piece of cloth and asks if you want a table. What do you do?

Take the cloth and wipe your bloody nose, or tell him you'd like a table for one.