polka dots and moonbeams
Went out for morning dimsum with family. As early birds we got a nice table.
The red bean cake was really good.
The server girl brought rice noodles with beef on it. “This is not the one?” she asked. She took it back and then came back much later a new fresh one with mushrooms on it, which was what we ordered.
By the time we left, there were many people waiting for tables.
The girl sitting next to the door. Her jacket kept sliding off her chair.
The girl at the travel agency. We asked her a question about where how we could obtain the return trip ticket. She gave us a long answer. I didn’t even follow.
Her name tag said Carmen. She had a white wide face and thick framed glasses. She spoke in an animated way. I couldn’t tell if it was English-accented Cantonese or what.
Across from the travel agency was a new snack bar place. The sign said Open. I just stared at it. It didn’t even occur to me that I wanted a bubble tea until I got into the car.
So I dropped my family at home, and came back out myself to pick up a bubble tea.
Christmas day in Richmond Hill is gray sky and the roads were dry which made driving safer.
In the car, jazz radio played “polka dots and moonbeams.” They also played other jazzy Christmas tunes. I like Christmas tunes in jazz because they are fresher, not like the clichéd ones they play on other stations.
I bought bubble tea at Fancy Cup. The lady gave me a stamp card. The man made my tea and said Merry Christmas. I think they are the owners.
In the atrium of Times Square, I browsed the shopwindows of the Sophie store and was looking at German-Japanese teapots and Gucci watches and Anna Sui gift sets.
I went to Starbucks to buy a coffee for mom. “What can I start you off with?” the server asked, as though my day has just started. Then I remembered I looked like hell. I didn’t comb my hair because I was in a hurry to go out this morning.
The lady at the table talked about stuffing a luggage and bringing it on a plane.
I drove home.
Now I’m home. The goal is to trim down the story today.
The red bean cake was really good.
The server girl brought rice noodles with beef on it. “This is not the one?” she asked. She took it back and then came back much later a new fresh one with mushrooms on it, which was what we ordered.
By the time we left, there were many people waiting for tables.
The girl sitting next to the door. Her jacket kept sliding off her chair.
The girl at the travel agency. We asked her a question about where how we could obtain the return trip ticket. She gave us a long answer. I didn’t even follow.
Her name tag said Carmen. She had a white wide face and thick framed glasses. She spoke in an animated way. I couldn’t tell if it was English-accented Cantonese or what.
Across from the travel agency was a new snack bar place. The sign said Open. I just stared at it. It didn’t even occur to me that I wanted a bubble tea until I got into the car.
So I dropped my family at home, and came back out myself to pick up a bubble tea.
Christmas day in Richmond Hill is gray sky and the roads were dry which made driving safer.
In the car, jazz radio played “polka dots and moonbeams.” They also played other jazzy Christmas tunes. I like Christmas tunes in jazz because they are fresher, not like the clichéd ones they play on other stations.
I bought bubble tea at Fancy Cup. The lady gave me a stamp card. The man made my tea and said Merry Christmas. I think they are the owners.
In the atrium of Times Square, I browsed the shopwindows of the Sophie store and was looking at German-Japanese teapots and Gucci watches and Anna Sui gift sets.
I went to Starbucks to buy a coffee for mom. “What can I start you off with?” the server asked, as though my day has just started. Then I remembered I looked like hell. I didn’t comb my hair because I was in a hurry to go out this morning.
The lady at the table talked about stuffing a luggage and bringing it on a plane.
I drove home.
Now I’m home. The goal is to trim down the story today.
posted by Adam C at
8:17 PM
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