"Looks delicious," I politely say after retracting my gaze from the dried mushrooms.
Then, I bid farewell to Bernie Huang and Cattie Huang and go to the barbecue stall that I frequently dine at.
It still isn't the time when the nightwalkers are most active. The small tables placed on the streets are a lot emptier. I easily occupy one of them and shout at the boss:
"I'd like to place my order!"
The boss focuses on grilling the skewers, completely unperturbed. The lady boss walks over with a small notebook and a ballpoint pen.
Without exchanging pleasantries or any small talk, I directly say, "Ten sticks of pork belly, ten sticks of pork ribs, five sticks of chicken skin, one set of chives, and one eggplant."
The beef kebabs and lamb skewers at this barbecue stall aren't very good, so I didn't order them.
