SOCIAL RUMBLINGS

It rained. Which impacted both trips over to Chinatown today. Lunch was early, just around tea time (which everyone understands is four o'clock with half an hour tolerance either way, more so at the latter end). Something very Hong Kong. With sambal. So also very tropical Dutch. While avoiding the eye of a crazy woman and hoping she didn't recognize me. Which she didn't. Halfway through she left. To the relief of not only myself but also staff. It's not that she acts crazy, but conversationally she's on a different planet with the wrong pack of cards. Aggressively off-kilter.

The pipe was very good. It is past the break in period, has now been smoked forty six times, and performs delightfully with my red Virginia mixture. Yes, I'm keeping track of how many times I've smoked it. Did I ever use the term 'neurotic'?

I might be perversely fixated on certain things. But I'm not nuts.


Four hours later I was back in the neighborhood, different pipe, same tobacco. Duration of that bowl was thirty five minutes. Shortly after I had finished the bookseller arrived, slightly disquieted by the rain. He had left the house in the morning without looking at the weather report, and was, consequently, a little dampened throughout the day and on the walk from the bus stop to the awning where I waited. After visiting the burger place we headed over directly to the bail-out bar for tea (me) and a pint of Guinness (him).

Without actually wanting to I ended up in conversation with a man who will be moving back east, to live on an undeveloped plot with his dog, at one with nature. Apparently people back there have a different energy, and everything is more spiritual. Kudos to me for not saying "well isn't that special" in a condescending tone. I have learned to be diplomatic.


Later, heading home, the bookseller and I spoke of North Bay lesbians, durian, and cheese. Those subjects have nothing to do with each other, but came up seriatim by conversational segues. He has no desire to ever have durian again -- having been tricked into trying it twice by me -- but was keenly looking forward to some gorgonzola past its prime that's in his apartment.

What I was thinking was that it's probably good that there is no female person waiting for him in his bed. She'd take one sniff of that gorgonzola breath, plus the undertones of Guinness and whisky, and head over to the couch to continue sleeping.

Durian breath would be worse. She'd take her woolen blanket and hunker down on the back landing near the garbage to get a safe distance away.


I am very fond of durian. Intellectually.
Haven't had it in over ten years.
I don't need to.



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