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On a late night in San Francisco, I found myself standing outside the Grubstake Diner. I was on the tail end of four drinks. The chill caress of the Bay Area breeze was uncharacteristically uninviting.
Hands in pockets, feet planted firmly on the tilting sidewalk, leaning towards the cruelly sealed warmth of a menu behind glass, I exclaimed, “They have pork chops!” Upon closer inspection, I responded to myself, “They have an entire pork chops section on the menu!” The girl nearby laughed and said, “You’re so Asian! Are you a prodigious eater?” I turned to her and thanked the Maker that there are women on this planet who would find my love for pork to be a point of impression. We walked in. Short on cash, I ordered the soup. The Mixologist ordered the breakfast. He was correct. I helped him finish. “You’re finishing his food for him?” She asked. “That’s so cute!” In a perfect world, this would be the way every that meal ends. I’m hoping that with a few hundred thousand words and a lot of prodigious eating, I can help bring us closer to that perfection. -James |
