MORE THAN ONE

Lunch was not very good. And I should've known better than to order a fried chicken sandwich (炸雞三文治 'jaa gai saam man ji'), given how unwieldy a large chicken cutlet is, and how tough fried chicken can get. But I didn't feel like noodles. They've simplified their menu because of covid. Also, when the second waitress went home early -- probably because she needed to get stuff done for the family -- it left only one person working the floor, who was up to her neck and on the cusp of losing it. It wasn't that busy. But for one person it was plenty.
I like the place, and I hope they survive.
I tipped fifty percent.

Both the pipe afterwards and the slight chicken queasiness were extremely enjoyable. And watching four policemen acting like social workers, quieting down an old lady pissed at her husband, was instructive, interesting, educational. Local neighborhood boys, now in uniform and dealing with their own people. The social work aspect is necessary because the ice in Chinatown is thin. Thinner after twenty months of pandemic.

Some businesses are closed and will eventually reopen. Some will never return.

The neighborhood feels different. Stressed.


Further along Waverly a crazy woman, non-Chinese, was sitting on a doorstep loudly bewailing bitch-hood, what the bitches were doing or had done, bitches, bitch, and those bitches.
No one listened.

When Cantonese people are stressed by uncertainty, many of them try to create a greater sense of community for themselves. It boosts their sense of security, of not being alone.

When non-Chinese have the same situation, some of them become poison-tongued.
It puts up dividers and marks out a mental space. Bitch.



Honestly, I do not mind complete strangers on the bus, upon seeing my cane, urging me to sit, and the subsequent back and forth of 唔使客氣，我唔坐，你坐，你坐，坐坐坐 。Ah Sook is NOT a cripple, but appreciates your courtesy greatly. It makes us seem connected.
And I would prefer it that you sat, mother with two kids.
You look tired, and I'm full of beans.




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