Monday, January 15, 2024


The Chinese place where I used to get take-out is gone, the pizza joint where the Sumatran Malays worked also. The lunch place run by the Vietnamese woman too. So is the clothing shop opposite. As well as one of the good coffee places. The stationers near Grant's Tobacconists still exists. Grants closed ages ago.

The collection of disreputable lawyers and engineers that used to smoke cigars around the middle of the day by the wall hasn't gathered there in several years. In fact, the entire Financial District seems a shadow. Partly because of the holiday.

Bought my large size envelopes and headed back into Chinatown following a different route. Dumplings and HK milk tea. And casually observing a little girl scrolling through her e-mails or Facebook, or whatever four year olds do when their parents are eating. Such very tiny hands! So cute. She was an extremely well-behaved tyke. Patient when her father wiped her mouth with a moistened napkin. Sweet.

The wait staff there also have small hands, comparetively. Mine, which are not large by any means, appear to be much bigger. The greatest hands I've ever seen belonged to a metal sculptor and a pipe maker respectively. Both those gentlemen had ginormous mits.
Northern dumplings with red vinegar and chili sauce are soulfood.
Fried rice with pieces of fried chicken is too, I suppose.
The gentleman at the next table had that.
Best tea-time in weeks.
Afterwards I smoked an old pipe I've had since the years when I still worked in the Financial District. An excellent time remembering places and people, undisturbed by many pedestrians or much traffic. I note that the lingerie place which survived the pandemic has become a Buddhist-Taoist temple. That happened very recently.
I don't think that there is a crossover.
Different demographic.

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