Thursday, December 24, 2020


A conversation yesterday among pipe smokers about whether the spoon stays in the tea cup or the mug or not, reminded me that one of the things I miss is enjoying a cup of hot Hong Kong Milk Tea (港式奶茶 'gong sik naai cha') in a noisy environment, with the geroesemoes of conversation all around. Like in a chachaanteng (茶餐廳), for instance.
The opinion of one gentleman was 'yes', another said 'no', under no conditions was it to be condoned. Ever. Darned heathens!

Andrew: And for the Scandinavian amongst you, notice the placement of the teaspoon... i.e. not in the bloody tea.
Martin: It's only "not in the bloody tea" because you couldn't be arsed to move it there, my brother in idleness.
Andrew: I have to venture out today to pick up some Xmas ale...I'll do it later.
Martin: I think you deserve some help with that. Call an ambulance and tell them to do your shopping.
The Scandinavian among us: Thank you I appreciate your advice.

[Inconsequential comment by me here.]

Martin: Don't provoke Andrew! He might wake up. Just because he hasn't moved since the Beatles broke up doesn't spell... I mean, just think of Smaug and shudder!

Well, okay. After I got back from Chinatown (bank, grocery shopping, dim sum to go), one of the first things on my agenda was milk tea. Had a total of three cups before bed.
Wired to the tits from four o'clock onwards. A seriously happy camper.
Shan't mention where I put the spoon.
Be outraged. Or not. Your call.

The Scandinavian among us had started the conversation ages ago by posting a picture of his hot beverage. The Anglos continued it in the spirit of Puritanically disapproving brotherhood, because since the Viking invasions of the eighth through tenth centuries, life is vanskelig.
And staying shikker is just not done.

Being one of the few Dutchmen in that forum, I have no tortoise in the race, and am not a warm enough person to really care one way or the other. I am lizard-like in that regard.
Much like the fuzzy reptile pictured above.


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