THE NUMBERS ARE OUT TO GET YOU

Confusion with a little old lady who had ordered after me and another person. She was clearly hungry, and confused about the who what where and when of her rice sheet noodle snack. No harm done. I got mine. The other person got his. And she got hers. Somehow, I don't think that she was as satisfied as I was after eating. I think the counter person may have had better days.

New uncle in the kitchen seems as unclear about the numeric system as the little old lady.
As well as the exact nature and meaning of cilantro.

If a plate of food comes to the counter from the kitchen, surely it belongs to whoever sees it first? Especially if she is the ONLY senior citizen there? Mmm, no auntie.
That isn't quite how things work. I'm so sorry.
It was very good.

Two blocks later while smoking my pipe, I observed one of the local Caucasian crazies strike poses in traffic, do athletic things, and gibber. She circled the area near the bus stop several times, crossed the street, go down the block, and return to do all of it again but in a different order. I realized that if she were still there when I finished my pipe I would have to take a later bus, as I did not want to risk being the only recognizable white person there, and therefore likely to be a fellow English speaker she could lay her opinions on.

I hope the locals don't judge all of us by people like her.
Some of us are not totally out to lunch.
Only slightly odd.

Also, why do so many white folks dress in such eccentric ways? No one wants to know how artistic and Bohemian they are, and that they are distinct individuals who are exceptionally spiritual with lives far more meaningful than almost anyone.

Chinese American parents in Chinatown do not need to warn their little kiddies away from strangers. All they have to do is subtly point at Caucasians, and say "see?". The children are exposed to so many loopdiloops and artsy types it's a miracle they don't run away screaming when strangers appear. Lordy, if any of those nutballs had been around when I was growing up, I would seriously distrust regular Americans for the rest of my life.

Come to think of it, that's actually not far from the case.
Many of you are subclinically "neurotic".



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