Lunch on Sunday usually isn’t a problem. I get up late, take a long bath, and head into Chinatown for a bite before percolating down to the office. Or, if I've gotten to the office relatively early and haven't felt puckish yet, I'll wander back up to C'town for snackipoos by mid-afternoon.
I've come to enjoy the regular solitude and peacefulness of the office on a weekend, though I do wish at times that I had other activities planned.
But Christmas is an unpleasant imposition, and an interruption of my routine - one cannot toddle off to a Chinese eatery for a bit of casual solitary snarfing on Xmas.
People dining by themselves in a Chinese Restaurant on Christmas advertise that their family ties are defective.
Which, in Chinese terms, makes them a very doubtful quantity.
Normal Caucasians surely have someone to eat with.
Especially during the holidays.
Well, not exactly. I'm not in a relationship anymore, and I have no bloodkin in Northern California.
So while I consider myself quite normal (please do NOT interject a snarky comment at this point!), my holidays won't follow the standard pattern.
Not a problem.
Except when it comes to food.
No, I do not have an atavistic desire to eat turkey. It's a rather miserable bird that probably makes a better pet than dinner, despite its absolute stupidity.
And most of the traditional trimmings are all in all rather nasty.
Truth be told, the idea of sitting around a groaning board with a large number of distant relatives gives me the screaming willies.
I'm just not that conversationally gifted.
A nice plump roast duck is delicious. Hacked into chopstickable chunks, served with rice and crisp vegetables.
Perhaps with some spicy-fried prawns, or even a bit of steamed fatty pork with ginger.
It's enough for two to four or five people.
But at present there is no one to chopstick-dance with.
And I seldom cook much nowadays.
On a day like today it would be particularly pointless.
At some point later I shall have a slice of fruit cake and a bit of whisky.
Helped by a mystery novel and a pipeful of good tobacco, the time will pass quickly, and Christmas will soon be over.
Okay, perhaps TWO slices of fruit cake.
With a second whisky, or another smoke.
On Monday I shall wield chopsticks again!
I wonder, where will I go for some nice duck?
Now, I think I'll head over to the operations department and steal some of their chocolate!
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Did I tell you we had planned duck for Thanksgiving? Then we got a last-minute invite to Bad Cohen's mentor's house and had actual turkey, so the duck got to wait another day. Not hard to guess which meal was better.
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