FOUR TIMES ONE

Always wait until they've put the tea down in front of you before ordering your beverage.
Always. That way you'll at least have tea.

When it's crowded they'll seat you at a large table with the other solitary diners. The reason being, of course, that smaller tables will be fully occupied at that hour.
And surely you don't want to sit by yourself?


There were three other people at the table at the time. I had forgotten that "happy hour" was from three till six, and the place was packed.
The other three people at the table consisted of a gentleman with a newspaper who didn't seem very sociable, an elderly lady, and an old man with a hearing defect. Not the most promising of company.
I concentrated on the menu.

When newspaper man's bowl of beef stew wonton noodle soup came, he put down his paper with a glare as if to say "don't you DARE read it, it's mine!" Then hungrily started digging in.

Soon the old lady's food came. A huge plate of chow fun, which she ate with trembling chopsticks. It really would have been easier with a fork, but when you've used chopsticks all your life......

The old gentleman with the bad ear placed his order - bittermelon beef, rice, and a bowl of honeycomb tripe with vegetables in broth.

When the waitress returned I asked for preserved egg and lean pork congee, and a serving of fried fish balls. I'm rather fond of fishballs, it's the springy chewiness. And they are good with a dab of hot sauce.

All four of us ate in silence. I rather wished the waitress had not asked me to sit there, as it was obvious that, excepting crabby newspaper dude, the rest of us were single people without significant family or households.
I felt sad for the two old folks who didn't have relatives to eat with.

The old lady couldn't finish her chow fun -- barely ate half of it -- and finally asked for a box to take home the rest.
The deaf gentleman defiantly requested a plate of soup to help him digest his food.
Being somewhat oblivious, I thoroughly enjoyed my meal.
Yummy!
It wasn't until I had finished, and was drinking my milk-tea, that I observed the woman carefully lifting her noodles into the container. Her hands quivered, and she had to concentrate very hard to manage the transfer.
She didn't spill even a morsel.


The restaurant caters to all types in the neighborhood. But the people who live closest are the ones who never left. Or those who returned to familiar places once they were alone again.
A lot of elderly people.
They're a respected legacy, but they don't have a lot to spare.
The restaurant is priced low enough that they can afford to eat there. And during 'happy hour', the prices are lower even than that.
So it was packed at that moment.
I ate well, but I felt guilty ordering so much.

Left a large tip for the waitress. As an attempt to increase the total from our table. Single diners are, after all, a little bit more trouble than families.


DOT---DOT---DOT


I miss having someone to eat with, and it would be nice to have someone to eat with again. But I doubt that that is going to happen.

The tea that I mentioned at the beginning of this post? Useful for rinsing the mouth after eating, as well as diluting the milk-tea a little bit to make it 'more so'.
As well as just for drinking, of course.
You must always have some tea.
It's very important.



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