THE BOTTLE OF BAIJIU

Roast goose rice in a crowded restaurant, at the single diner table. Three other people there. Mrs. Bowl of Noodles and a small plate of roast pork, next to me. Uncle Wonton Noodle Soup, opposite. Older brother Mongolian Beef and Heineken on the other side. And I'm right in the line of sight of dead fish eyes idiot two tables away.

I would rather have been at the table with the adorable little moppet near the waiter station. She looked like she would have had intriguing conversational skills.


The first thing I noticed about Mrs. Bowl of Noodles and Roast Pork was the emphatic way she slammed down the hot sauce jar everytime she added another spoonful. I admire and approve of people who appreciate hot sauce. Add sambal to everything.

Then I noticed her taking a bottle of baijiu (白酒 'pak jau') out of her shopping bags and pouring it into her teabowl. So did the waiter. He guided the bottle back into her bag, admonishing her "mou yam jeui" (無飲醉). This displeased her no end. She started grumbling about young fellows, it was her bottle, dammit, and holidays. Segued into her husband (老公 'lou gung'), a Party official. Who was, apparently, deceased. As were her three children. Alone, miserable, no nearby family. She wept. She seemed inconsolable, but she wasn't making a huge scene, and deserved a sympathetic ear.

I regret that I am not such.

First because my Cantonese is not fluent enough for that, secondly because I'm so damned Aspergers that I'm practically Autistic. And quite incapable of giving the right responses when something catches me out of left field.
Perfectly crippled in that regard.


In retrospect, if Mrs. Bowl of Noodles thought that baijiu was the right thing under the circumstances, it probably was. Dining alone on Thanksgiving.


Better, in any case, than having a dim white guy next to her.



The roast goose was pretty darn good. So was the pipe I had afterward. Later I discovered that the place where I intended to have a cup of milk tea at around tea time was closed for Thanksgiving.

Smoked a second pipe while wandering down from the top of Nob Hill.
It had gotten colder. And windy.

It is raining now.




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