Tuesday, February 18, 2020


Dinner: Fish and potato in a curry sauce over rice (咖哩石班飯 'gaa lei sek paan faan'). Hot sauce (是拉差 'si laa chaa') in lieu of sambal. Hot milk tea. It was a delicious meal, very enjoyable. There were over two dozen other customers in the place. And, other than myself, no white people. Because white people are too scared that they will catch the Wuhan virus, simply from being within a few feet of a Chinese person.

You know, I am really disappointed in my fellow Caucasians.

On the one hand, I do like eating a delicious dinner where there are no confused white folks taking up the wait person's time with inane questions ("does it also come with potatoes, or is rice obligatory?"), on the other hand, this fearful sh*t is really absurd.

Yes, over two dozen Chinese people. I am certain not a single one of them had Wuhan fever. In fact, I'll go so far as to say that none of the many people of Chinese ancestry around me today have it.

Everyone at my bank was Chinese.
So were the bus passengers.
Chinatown pedestrians.

That fish curry was exceedingly nice. I heartily recommend it.

By the way: my apartment mate, a Chinese American who does not have Wuhan disease, is thinking of getting a weird spiritual white folks massage at a spa that caters primarily to "woke" white people. If she can keep a straight face long enough. Makes you feel centered in Mother Earth, nurtures your immune system, balances your energy.
She received a generous gift card.

One more by the way: she can't pronounce Wuhan in her parental version of Chinese, and would have a difficult time locating that place on the map. None of her relatives have ever been there. No one she knows has.

Later this evening I'll be in Chinatown again. As well as tomorrow.
And on Friday, my third day off.

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