Famous last words: “I swear to God, that’s the last time I eat at that fucking shithole,” just before drifting off into an MSG-spiked food coma from Orient Express. But, like the Austrian cyborg, you’ll be back, if only because Oh-X is the sole Chinese joint across the street from Charles Village’s Video Americain. Truth be told, Express isn’t any worse than any other shitty Chinese hole-in-the-wall, and convenience is the mother of ingestion, so you might as well make the most of your inevitable dining. Skip the doughy, soggy spring rolls ($2.20) and head straight for the entrées. We’re still picking the muculent fibers of General Tzo’s chicken ($6.95) from our molars, an almost-pleasant reminder of the sharp, viscous sugar-glue in which hunks of poultry were suspended. Even better was the picante Hunan shrimp ($7.45), which were firm and plentiful, though their accompanying snow peas were somewhat wilted. Less successful was the Szechwan beef ($6.45), in which something shredded and beefish shared swimming space with a bunch of carrot shavings in an unappetizing brown broth. We didn’t think we’d be able to eat it all, much less keep it down, but we did. And we’ll be back for more.