Walking around the new neighborhood. Came across this tiny restaurant and had some mediocre lamb soup noodles therein. A young white guy came in after me and started talking in Chinese to the clearly delighted shopowner. It was pretty simple stuff, but his tone was pretty good. There should be a phrase to describe the exquisite agony of observing a white person speak your mother tongue better than you do.
Another instance when Chinese comprehension would have been useful.
The interior proved equally mysterious.
1 comments:
Then there's the place subtitled "chickens and noodles."
There's too many for me to document but it's definitely a useful project for someone: "Family Garden Vegetarian Restaurant." etc.
I'm pretty sure the nondescript office happens to be the Manhattan chapter of the Chinese Ayn Rand Society, with announcements posted of upcoming social functions: the Ayn Rand essay contest where you win legal assistance with immigration matters, the Ayn Rand ballroom dance benefit, etc. The Ayn Rand feng shui night class, etc.
Post a Comment