Wednesday, May 29, 2019

NOT THE PAST. NOT THE PRESENT.

The kind of night that they should all be like. No drunkards interfering with our progress, no weirdos at the burger joint during our stay there, and among the patrons at the place with the mezzanine, the known idiot at the bar was quiet, and later stumbled off into the darkness without a fuss.
The karaoke joint was empty when we arrived -- they happily let us in because they know that we're well-behaved, then continued cleaning and counting the cash register with us as the only two customers in a peaceful brightly lit place with no horrid music -- and locked up when we left, somewhat before two o'clock.

I don't drink, of course, because of my medication. Briefly I thought of breaking my rigid new habit, but discarded that thought.

I don't need alcohol. Just good company.


Often the only way to find that in bars is if you bring it with you. If there were a late-night Chinese bakery, with milk-tea and pastries, that would be a regular hang-out. One of the bakeries which I patronize has mostly old people sitting down, and, of course, they need not go to work the next day.
It would be perfect. Naturally their kinfolk would get no rest, what with grandpa or grandma wired to the eyebrows at ungodly hours ...

Elderly Cantonese people on coffee are vibrant.
Cheerful, rackety, and happy as clams.
Vibrating clams.


Edward Hopper - Nighthawks

There's always donut shops, but the coffee is usually lousy, the deepfried sugary snacks only appeal so much, and they've never heard of milk tea. What they do have is drunken young adults, junkies, and street people sleeping in corners. So a very limited attraction.

Some people can stay up all night drinking coffee or tea.
But cities seldom cater to that type.



We probably need more train stations, with people waiting for the midnight transcontinental and the either late or very early commuter trains in the 24 hour restaurant at the end of the platform.


I'm always up at this hour.
Usually earlier.




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