A few hours after school today, I crashed, I took an after school nap as I often do. Today it was especially long, about two hours. I woke up around 8:30, if memory serves, which it often doesn't when I'm groggy. Of course by this time it's already been dark for 2 hours. I was hungry, and I started to worry about food, I live life on the edge here: my fridge is empty. I tried to flatten my hair's new sleeping style into a more presentable awake style. I Checked my wallet for cash, fished through my "change jar" noticing a large accumulation of "pennies" or NT$1 coins. I pointed a frown of disapproval towards 7-11 with their unevenly numbered prices. I'm sure they profit somehow by pricing things that way, this annoys those of us who don't like to carry "pennies" or to count them all out to the cashiers when we're just trying to buy bottled water between classes. But I wasn't about to start wasting mental energy on the 7-11 empire's questionable business practices, I was hungry!
I slipped slipped on my sandals and made a mental note to clean the little vestibule where we keep our shoes, umbrellas, a sink, and a broken hot plate. Annoyed with myself knowing that I had no intention of cleaning the vestibule today, I stumbled down the stairs in that efficient, but clumsy way that I always go down stairs, shooting out into the alley like a man who knows where is going. Once I rounded the corner and made it to the end of the alley, where it meets the sidewalk, I stopped. I stop here a lot, because at this point I have to make a choice, right or left. Today right was dumplings, and left was stinky tofu, first I looked around for a second, there are always people milling around. I wondered if they wondered at the foreigner standing in the Alley holding his chin. I didn't waste much more time, I decided dumplings would be more healthful since they are stuffed with vegetables, plus I could get a bowl of soup too.
I weaved and dogged around Chinese women and outstretched car mirrors along the narrow sidewalk leading east, towards the dumplings. I'm not sure why but it seems like there are always old women and little girls on this particular sidewalk. I eyed a big basket of gleaming Washington apples sitting in front of the Satanic temple on my block, they looked delicious, but that place gives me the creeps.
The dumpling place is always two short blocks away, but I always think it should be one. Once I carefully crossed the street, two blocks away, I started to realize how late it was. I don't think I'd been there this late before, and sure enough, at the same moment I came within view of it I saw the outside light go off.
I kept walking by so as to pass it and peak in, just in case, but all I saw were employees putting things away while the one male employee watched TV. They all have TVs.
"That's OK I thought. Now I get to eat stinky tofu!" So I allowed myself to fantasize about stinky tofu as I made my way around the tiny triangular block of shops, reversing my original direction and putting me on a direct course for stinky tofu heaven.
On my little walk there I gazed into shop windows, absentmindedly made prolonged and awkward eye contact with a woman crossing the street I was crossing, and then with a woman rolling down her standard issue "store front roll-up door." Looking in through another shop window I couldn't help noticing for the third time tonight, someone sleeping on the job, this time it was an older lady sleeping on a flattened hair-salon chair. You don't see that often in the States, but then again I think those people are working 16 hour days working for themselves, so they probably don't feel too guilty about it, and she had no customers anyway. I thought about these things as I made my way casually, without school bags, or a coat, or anything else to weigh down my evening stroll through the humid room temperature outside air of Taipei.
The loveliness of the calm velvety evening air was barely disturbed even by the huge pile of dog poo that I expertly avoided, yes I'm used to it now. But my evening of "nice weather" cliches could not last forever, soon the stink of stinky tofu filled my nostrils and I was no longer thinking of the velvety evening air, now I was salivating for stinky tofu.
The stinky tofu cook greeted me before I even got there, an advantage to being a conspicuous foreigner. I didn't even have to tell him what I wanted, he knew, but I told him I wanted two. Then I think he corrected the measure word I had used and started to prepare for me the addiction that he had addicted me to.
I didn't have to wait long, it's like he knew I was coming. To make a long story short, it wasn't many minutes until I was sitting on my bedroom floor poking holes in stinky tofu squares to let in more sauce. (edit 313) Permalink