No alarm this morning. Forgot to set one last night upon return home. I see that I managed to pour myself a pint of water with lemon juice, but didn’t actually manage to drink it.
Sort some files; hang yesterdays washing up. Curse the broken clothes airer.
The local off license provides breakfast provisions...smoked back bacon and parsley; milk & eggs. A copy of the Sunday Independent.
I’m rubbish at cooking bacon – and I forget to put oil in the pan, so my bacon sticks to the base of it, becoming bacon pieces as I chisel it off the pan. Try not to burn my scrambled eggs; while attempting to have toast pop at the right moment and not overbrew my earl grey.
I am off to meet some friends in Chinatown – it’s Chinese New Year. Chinatown is packed full of people, more than I’ve ever seen before. I try to flow through the crowd, but they are not moving. Small children lag behind their parents, garnering a swift jerk of the wrist every now and then. I wouldn’t want to be responsible for small children in a crowd like this; it would be so easy to lose them. I realise my efforts at moving in this direction are futile, so I backtrack and head west down Shaftesbury avenue. South into the Chinatown strip; the dragon has changed direction and the crowd have condensed into this street to allow ti to pass, all the while craning their necks and generally blocking the way.
I arrive only 10 mins late to meet them; K is already there and has been waiting in line for some time. S is still stuck in the crowd. We all manage to get a table after not too long and are rewarded with the most delicious dumplings I've eaten outside of Sydney’s Ashfield! Mango bubble pearl tea goes down a treat until the staff opens the side door to watch the dragon, and an icy wind gusts through the place. I try to shut it but realise two things:
1. There is a doorstopper holding the door open, so they’ve obviously got it open for a reason
2. There is a large cos lettuce hanging from the overdoor hinge. Welcome, 2011 – Year of the Rabbit!
And wouldn't you know it, when we go to pay I realise that my wallet’s not in my bag and have a small panic that someone has taken it out of my bag in the crowd.
Cue K weaving her way through the crowd to an ATM and S and I fending of 6 or 7 attempts by staff to take our (short) payment plate. Quelle amusement.
I get home to find my wallet on my bed. :)
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