AWAY FROM THE COMPUTER FOR A SECOND

An Indian accent who introduced himself as my teevee technician Samuel wished to assure me that everything was all right, there would be no interruption of service, and was the television on right now? How many teevees did I currently have?

There is NO teevee on at present, there will be none such, I do not subscribe to any cable services, and this is your clue to hang up, Samuel.

It is a guarantee that Indians calling one out of the blue wish to take your money through underhanded means.


And this apartment is not jampacked with high-tech devices in every room.


That said, there ARE four functional computers here.
Plus one I haven't used in years.

After Samuel hung up, no doubt despondently, I went out for lunch. It seemed fitting after this morning's post to have a plate of fried rice. Not the kind of fried rice white people usually go for, in that it contained no peas, carrots, or soy sauce.

What would have been nice would have been Indonesian style fried rice -- also something many Americans won't try -- but that, as you'd suspect, is not common in San Francisco (understatement), and not available at all in Chinatown.

Sadly, Uncle Roger doesn't cook here.

Ended up going to an eatery I had every reason to believe would be underpopulated at that hour, where I knew there was sambal and stinky fish (鹹魚 'haam yü'), and they know and like me. Shan't mention the name, because I don't want it mobbed by a whole rampaging herd of my fellow unsocials, desperate for some solitude and quiet time.

And while I enjoyed the pipe afterwards while wandering the alleyways, it would have been nice to smoke inside with a second cup of milk tea, seeing as a chill breeze was blowing.


Lunch was excellent today.


Obviously, I am back now.



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