THE LARGEST GOON OF COFFEE

There are several people on my list of "favourite women in Chinatown". Two of them know what I want before we've even gotten past saying 'Hello'.
They're not only clever, but they probably know me too well.

They ask me 杯奶茶先 and 嗰個最大嘅罐咖啡？

Those aren't really questions.

Just confirmation.


Mind you, if I didn't like them, I wouldn't have become a repeat customer.
But they aren't the only ones, and those aren't the only places.
I know next to nothing about either of them.

One of them wears lipstick nicely.


'pui naai cha sin', 'go go jeui taai ge gun gaa fei'


It's not that I am gender-biased here, but there really aren't that many men selling Hong Kong Milk Tea or large jars of coffee. I'm sure if there were, some of my favourite women in Chinatown might be, erm, not women.
Bit of a struggle, that.

One of my favourite people in Chinatown cooks a damned fine pork chop, and is married to one of my favourite women. Unfortunately, the restaurant they run closes before seven o'clock, and on workdays I never get back to the city in time.


The best time in Chinatown is between four o'clock and six, when children and their parents are rushing about buying groceries and snackiepoos, old folks are ambling home from the park, people see each other ...


Unfortunately, well, you know, tourists.

All of us will have the beef chow fun.
Five plates. Same damned thing.
We don't know anything else.

The menu at a restaurant I patronize does not have recognizable white folks Chinese food. This leads to interesting situations.
It's a ring-side seat.
Fun.



Usually, no one tries to eat 西多士 with chopsticks.




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