FOG-SNOOTED HERMIT

It was already after teatime when I headed over the hill for a smoke. I'd had a late lunch, which included eggplants and salt fish over rice (yes, I kept the kitchen door mostly closed while cooking), followed by strong milk tea. I ended up loitering outside the Gordon J. Lau Elementary School (劉貴明小學 'lau kwai ming siu hok') opposite Joyce Street (哉思街 'joi si gaai') which runs between the Young Women's Christian Association (女青年會 'neui ching nin wui') and Donaldina Cameron House (金美倫堂 'kam mei luen tong'.

Early evening. So it's not like I was by smoking at that spot showing a bad example to the kiddiewinkies or by my utter coolness tempting them to acquire their first briar and imitate my uber-cool self. The school was closed for the day, it's presently the middle of summer in San Francisco, and consequently cold and by that time quite foggy. Not weather conducive to emulative behaviour.

Besides, the kids have already been thoroughly indoctrinated.
They know that smoking is a sign of moral rot.
Depravity, evil, low character.

It was delightfully calm and peaceful. The tops of the Financial District office buildings were invisible, everything more than two or three blocks away fading into the dense grey haze.
Good thing I had already had some strong tea, because the only places still serving caffeinated beverages were boba joints for Mandarin-speaking teenagers.

Not my kind of beverage, nor my kind of crowd. Tough gummy tapioca marbles, in my mind, have no business being in beverages. Small tapioca pearls yes, but we're talking about cold drinks rather than a nice hot cuppa.

Got home again before dark, and argued with the turkey vulture.
Who is convinced that there are meaty things to eat everywhere.
And why don't I take him along when I go to work or Chinatown?

Well, little fella, people already think I'm a bit odd in both those places. No need to amplify that impression. As drawing attention with a fuzzy critter drooling over the fatty specimens most certainly would.

Turkey vultures (Cathartes aura; 紅頭美洲鷲' hung tau mei jau jau'), no matter how chipper and cheerful they might be, are not, strictly speaking, balls of fluffy charm.

Folks might look askance.



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