According to the woman who complimented me for a lovely pipe (a K&P army mount Prince of Wales, shape 401, smooth, older semi two tone finish) one must avoid fluoride because it causes diseases and attacks the glands, particularly the pineal gland. One should only drink distilled water. What I learned from this is that strange white women are likely to be crazy. Yes of course she was white.
Also something about vaccines. Darned missionary hippie.
Earlier, before lunch, I had spent an hour in a local business having something attended to. During that entire time a Cantonese gentleman with poofty hair ranted non-stop about Iran, the western powers, the American military, and the stock market. No one could get a word in edgewise, or wanted to. The proprietor and a female customer had a repetitive discussion about times and dates.
Cantonese old men can be remarkably like white women.
For true stability, common sense, and a complete absence of all batshit qualities, you need a middle-aged Dutch American bachelor. And lord only knows where to find such a person.
Trust me. They're rare. It's hard.
At the chachanteng where I went for lunch one person dining by himself was listening to Catholic church music, the early mediaeval version of rock's greatest hits, slow, ponderous, awe-inspiring. Another nearby person was having an argument with an invisible entity. An old man sitting one table away looked hunted, as if to say "what are these loonies doing here?". The real loony was outside, though: someone who took off running at high speed while talking to no one about green awning-like things and lamp-posts.
I think I've finally reached the stage where I swear in Dutch under my breath about tourists, large people, tattooed people, artistically dressed people or people with dyed hair. Plus the nut cases and eccentrics. Not loud enough to hear, though. I do not want folks to think "there's a crazy old man talking to himself". Even though I am.
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