I just opened a fortune cookie – the final step of my lunch that I ate about half an hour ago, and received this fortune (doubled, because the same message was stuffed in the one cookie twice):
Each moment should be treasured.
As I was just mentally preparing my blog post for today. Indeed, fortune cookie. Each moment *should* be treasured. So let’s unpack the moments I was about to relate.
I just popped over to try a “new” Viet-Thai restaurant that opened up not far from my house. I was feeling like having some deep fried vegetarian spring rolls, so I figured today was as good a day as any to try them out.
I walked in the door late in the lunch hour and there are a total of four customers, all older men. The lady seats me at the front of the restaurant, in the window, beside two of these customers.
Planning on doing a bit of writing while enjoying my lunch, I get out my book. I had forgotten my pencil somewhere, so I used a pen instead (I usually use pencil because then I can erase if I want to change something, rather than scratching it out). I ordered my veggie spring rolls and a shrimp pad thai, because their pho is all meat based. *sigh*
And so I try to concentrate on my storyline, where did I leave my character, how she will overcome what she just endured, that sort of thing.
But these two customers beside me, two old goats, are bleating on about this and that. The first about how he’s trying to game his “Woman. Lawyer. *knowing look*” neighbour because their shared retaining wall has to be fixed (hers, obviously, because of when each of their houses were built, although she can’t figure this out because she’s a woman, clearly).
<bawk bawk bawk>
My food arrives quickly, and I don’t have a chance to write down three lines, so I set my book aside and focus on my bloody hot spring rolls straight from the deep fryer. They’re alright, although I never understand why potatoes are included in the filling. Then my pad thai arrives before I finish eating my last bite, so no writing will happen now. It is also just alright. I try a bit of fish sauce on it, and slightly improve the one spot so I put more on, and promptly ruin it by making it too salty. Dang.
All the while, I’m learning that the second fellow’s upstairs neighbour has an alternative lifestyle that results in his not getting up until 4 or 5 in the afternoon, and moving furniture around at inappropriate o’clock at night, which makes his doesn’t-have-a-licence-so-she-doesn’t-drive wife angry. So he said that this is the last time he’ll be politely asking the fellow to be more considerate of others, and then it’s going to get real. And maybe the upstairs neighbour should change his meds if he can’t function like a real person.
Next they’re discussing lawn care, and the first old goat is talking again about his “Women. Lawyer. *knowing look*” neighbour and how he takes care of this triangle shaped sliver of no-man’s land between their properties, and how she went and stuck her garbage on it, enraging him. And how he waited until she left to get out his tape measure and figure out where his property line goes, because he doesn’t have an actual survey to refer to. But he had to do it when she wasn’t there, because, well now, he didn’t want to tip her off, and she works from home.
The second fellow, who clearly lives in a condo or some kind of apartment building, has taken it upon himself to do the lawn care and snow clearing for the building, so he’s looking for a broken snowblower of the same model he has so he can salvage parts from it, or he wants a specific chain drive new model. And I think, or you could let your landlord handle that and you wouldn’t have to worry about any of it… Or about submitting receipts to him so he’ll pay you back for doing it…
<bawk bawk bawk>
So, I’m finished my food and still have about half a pot of tea left and a full glass of water. At last, a bit of a chill moment with empty hands, so I can write and enjoy my beverages before I toddle home (to more noise because of construction two doors down from me, and the property manager doing renovations today on the empty basement apartment in our building).
Then the old goats start to talk politics and the election. And how proportional representation would be awful because then we’d be in a situation like Greece.
I feel like leaning over and explaining that it’s not proportional representation that’s the problem in Greece… For example, there is this. As well as issues with people actually paying taxes and whatnot… But I don’t, and they continue.
<bawk bawk bawk>
And I just frankly don’t want to hear it. So instead of chilling in the restaurant, I get up to go.
The second fellow kind of notices this, I think, and he mentions to his friend as I’m packing up that he had been having a good day until they started talking about politics.
At any rate, I’m not going to go back to that restaurant. I really miss Taste Ramen + Fusion, where I could go, get great tofu dishes, sit in a quiet (or noisy) space (just far enough away from other conversations that it didn’t matter) and write during my lunch hour.
Let’s examine what I can treasure from these moments. I learned a few things, including barking your opinion in public as an older adult just makes you look foolish and opinionated. I didn’t like that restaurant’s food. And that there are sexist jerks living in my area. Although the restaurant staff were very lovely. Oh, and the one server called me sir, and then corrected himself to miss/ma’am. Yeah…
I’m going to enjoy my home brewed pot of Harney and Sons peppermint tea now, put on some ambient music and write my next chapter. Then, I might prepare myself to paint this evening.