Monday, March 06, 2023


On the way back from lunch I passed a young woman panting from the exertion of climbing a very mild incline. And I can just imagine the strain it put on her wobblesome thighs, as even from a safe distance of eight feet away from her at the closest, I could hear her panting in an exaggerated fashion. Slopes, such as we have in San Francisco, are hard on the young.

When she saw me and my pipe, she exclaimed "get the f*&k away, smelly old f$%cker, smoking when it's bad!"

Okay..... I will gladly get the f*&k away. Don't want to share this fine tobacco with you anyway. And by the way, I eat gluten and kill puppies too! But I refrained from speaking, and merely pretended that I didn't hear her, as we smelly old f$%ckers are notoriously oblivious and hard of hearing. And even with a cane, and arthritis acting up because of the miserable cold weather I am, apparently, faster on my feet and more fit than you.

Lunch had been excellent. Fuzzy melon and roast pork chunks over rice (節瓜燒肉飯 'jit gwaa siu yiuk faan') with a bowl of soup and tea at a place which I am glad has survived the pandemic. The waitress still has shorter hair than I do, and seemed a bit frazzzled, probably because the balding fellow with the forelock curl who chops the meats was in a bad mood.

By the way: it's not just arthritis. Cold weather also impacts the circulation, especially in my calves and feet. And though I am indeed older than the young panting woman with the overly sensitive nose and strong opinions, I wouldn't describe myself either as "old", or a "f$%cker". Neither one of those terms is operative. How about "crusty middle-aged coot who is not f$%cking at all", what with being quite single for over a decade.
There is nothing resembling f$%ckery going on.
Not even remotely.
A bowl of GLP's Stonehenge in a Big Ben Apple. For reasons unconnected with Big Ben and Amphora pipes being Dutch-made, they are among my favourite smokers. Good solid quality, well-made, decent briar. And Greg Pease's Stonehenge Flake is a remarkable product.

Despite the nasty temperature, frigid wind, and younger person with a bitchy attitude, I was enjoying myself. In fact, in comparison to the weather at present, Miss Thing was a minor bump on the road; I soon passed her.

Bitchin', bitch, jes' bitchin'.

The Armenian diamond merchant was eating lunch with a friend when I entered the restaurant. I did not interrupt their conversation, as they were discussing things, and sometimes I prefer the company of no one.

Well, a young lady who doesn't think of me as a 'smelly old f$%cker' would be nice.

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