DO NOT ASK FOR KETCHUP

One of the places of which I am rather fond in Chinatown has dumplings for breakfast, and I'm awfully tempted. Breakfast last until eleven or so, then it's lunch for another three and a half hours, during which they have 'sets'. Bowl of soup, plate lunch, cup of hot strong milk tea, lots of old folks.

Because many of their customers are middle-aged or older it tends to be quieter and quite bearable even when crowded. Many teenagers and twenty somethings tend to be loud, and, if Caucasian, exceptionally so. Over in Europe they see a lot of those visiting from the United States, often complaining about the lack of water, odd time and temperature marking, and the distressing fact that no one waits for them. Here too, but I don't eat at those places.

I'm rather fond of Europe also. I can speak some of the languages there fluently or at least passably, and I'm quite good at not being loud and obnoxious.
Sadly, that isn't taught in schools here.

By the way: it is presently 68 degrees Fahrenheit, which is 20 Celsius. So it will be rather warmish today. Entitled people may wish to stay at the hotel till twilight, as almost nowhere else in San Francisco has airconditioning, and we probably won't give you any ice cube water anyway. We aren't particularly vested in you thriving.

You have to ask for ketchup. It isn't automatic.


In order that as many as possible of you lot are pissed off, much, even most, of the food in Chinatown is not vegan, and even the bland and safe for Midwesterners stuff is probably politically incorrect. Whether right, left, or karen.

Please note that the reason so many of the old folks in Chinatown are smoking their ciggies on the sidewalk is because there are children and other family members inside, whereas there are very many whiny white people on the street, so it's unhealthy ab initio. I want to emphasize this, to make absolutely damned sure that you know it. That is also why after my breakfast or lunch (more likely lunch) down there today, I will be filling my pipe and enjoying tobacco in public. Thus being a horrible example for your precious kiddiewinkies, who will take one look and immediately realize that smoking is cool, hip, and with it. I am Dutch American, but please feel free to think of me as French, here for your inconvenience.

On first thought, none of you deserve dumplings.
There is no second thought.




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