DODGING THE BOOLAS

Having looked forward to a fried fish sandwich (香酥魚柳包 'heung sou yü lau baau') since this morning, you can imagine my distress upon discovering that they're on vacation for two weeks. There was weeping, wailing and gnashing of teeth. Much like I imagine those two rats doing every time a pedestrian scared them back into hiding before they could scoot over to the tasty refuse pile. It wasn't the old Cantonese aunties that discommoded them, rather, passing groups of tourists.

Those two rats have my deepest sympathy.
You can't have a romantic dinner without garbage. Everyone knows that.


So instead of the chachanteng, I went around the corner and had roast bird over rice. Other than three persons of probably Yucatecan derivation, the place was filled with Cantonese, and had a club-like atmosphere. Very old school Hong Kongish. The fowl was fine, the chilipaste could have been better.

The discommoded rats came later, after teatime. I had done all of my shopping by then, dodging groups of tourists nearly every step of the way. Mostly Euries on Stockton Street, the Americans being on Grant Avenue and not wishing to waddle uphill. Now, far be it from me to engage in fatshaming. It throws the proportions of head to torso off entirely, and means you might have a heartattack by the time you're forty, as well as rotten feet and a bad back.
But your doctor probably already told you that, and it's none of my business.

And honestly, there is no reason why you shouldn't have fried food for breakfast, second breakfast, elevenses, lunch, and dinner. It's part of your culture. I understand that.
And I sympathize. Like totally. Please feel empowered.

In my own neighborhood, before catching the bus, I count Waymos, familiar faces, toddlers, dogs, and street people. Across the hill in Chinatown I count overweight non-Chinese. It's purely neurotic obsessive behaviour. You know, I've never seen an elephant in the waiting room at my doctor's office there, but at the cardiologists in the non-Chinese part of San Francisco that isn't uncommon.

Hark, what''s that trumpeting sound from across Golden Gate Park?
Oops, never mind. Don't want to fatshame anyone.
The ground shakes as they pass.
Dang!


Oh do be carfeful, you'll crush a hobbit!



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