There was no intemperate behaviour at the place where I spent New Year's Eve. No one got drunk, swozzled, tipsy, or even mildly flushed. At least not until after I left. No, it isn't because my presence cramps people, but because we were there to enjoy fine tobacco in good company while ticking off the moments left in 2013.
At a certain point, celebratory hats and tiaras were handed around. They were worn with good grumbly grace, for all of ten minutes.
Following bubblies they were discarded. By then they were badly bent and trashed, as for some reason paper party goods manufacturers assume that all people are microcephalic pinheads, with crania shaped like traffic cones.
To keep the toppers from sliding off, they had to be jammed down.
That, too, contributed a bit to the cheerful silliness.
But once twelve A.M. passed we reverted.
We are all mature individuals.
With cigars and pipes.
I honestly cannot remember anyone drinking to excess.
Actually, the most enjoyable part of the evening had been earlier at the bakery in Chinatown. The people there were glad to see me, and at one point a very charming young lady asked me if I was a teacher.
In Chinese, the term for teacher is quite respectful.
Lao shr (老師 'elderly master').
Yes, she spoke Mandarin. Which is something I can only do very badly. But she had heard me talking in Cantonese. Which I do slightly less badly. And at one point I proved that I can read characters associated with food. Which is something I do rather well.
我不是老師，只是記賬員。
The bakery does not have a selection of fine whiskeys or a humidor. Obviously there is room for such a business, it's an undiscovered market segment; a new paradigm. A smoking club with an excellent & extensive selection of pastries, a tea room with single malts and rolled fermented leaves. Open it, and we will come.
Don't worry, we know how to behave. We are modest, and have good habits. There will not be any excessive consumption of alcoholic bevs. Or attitudinal theatrics.
Not as long as the milk tea holds out.
We will enjoy little snackies in between our smokes!
The only skirts I saw yesterday evening belonged to men with leather utili-kilts, and a flock of high-legged damsels who flitted past the smoking establishment. Some of the patrons promptly went outside to observe their tottering retreat as they headed down to Montgomery, much to the amusement of the cigar-smoking ladies who remained inside.
We had to explain that it was scientific curiosity.
How do they WALK in those things?
It's a miracle!
Balls were festively dropped, good cheer was had by most, and several fine Hondurans and Nicaraguans went up in flame.
I may have been the sanest and most sober passenger on the jam-packed bus back over Nob Hill.
Other than the resigned looking Cantonese couple next to me.
Who were bemused by the chaos of it all.
Giddy whitish youth.
Tipsy.
Happy 2014.
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