Last night BC and I went to one of our favorite restraurants, Taiwan, on Clement in the Richmond. Parking was, as usual, difficult, but we found a spot on the second pass. Not bad. We sat down, had a beer, and ordered a nice meal for a group of four to six. We were seated at one of the small, rectangular tables along the wall. In the center of the room there is a row of larger, round tables at which we usually find groups of teenage Sino-Franciscans. The food is good, and the prices are fantastic. So, young people. Which usually isn’t a problem. Another type of group one normally spots in the center are families, usually of three or four generations including exactly one white person. It was that group that sat inches to my right. They all took their places rather quickly, except for the 97 year old granddad, who remained standing while he let an audible, fragrant, fifteen second fart about eighteen inches from my head. All I could do was to stop eating for a while and try to go into a sort of zen state. This too, did pass.
Tales of Post-Twinkie Ennui