I washed down the amlodipine besylate with a glass of yeun yueng and plonked on the internet a bit before going to bed.
Calmness. Peace. Marginally too cold for many people.
Bar life has returned after the pandemic.
Polk street was audible.
Around tea time yesterday, at the bakery, a young Indian woman very haltingly used her university-taught Mandarin to communicate with the counter person. Which was never-the-less a commendable achievement, the relatives accompanying her should be proud of her.
I understood her, and my Mandarin is absolutely horrible. Unfortunately my Hindi is rusty. Which is actually a mighty good thing in this case, because it removed any temptation to show off, which would have stolen her thunder. It really was her moment. Kudos.
Yes, I know that there are people like that in Singapore and Hong Kong.
But this is San Francisco, where it's uncommon.
Tourists rarely surprise me.
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