Tuesday, November 06, 2001
Oriental Market
So I find myself in an Oriental food store with Spring. Soy bean snacks. Chocolate covered cracker sticks. Dried seaweed. Squid. Tea. Lots of tea but still no Black Currant. Supposedly sweet snacks made of rice. Or soy. Or octopus. Incense by the gross. Chop sticks. Tea pots. Pickled bamboo shoots. Pickled pepper. Pickled pickles. And even more odd food stuffs that my thoroughly Americanized palette refuses to believe is even edible, much less good as Spring insists.
But the soap smells nice. Mmmmmmmmmmmmm … sandalwood.
Slug buggy yellow …
While I've never really played before, Spring is a connoisseur of Punch Buggy. So since she's moved down here, I've had to come up to speed on the game.
So we're sitting in the Computer Room working away when “Punch Buggy blue and blue,” said Spring, lightly tapping me on the shoulder.
“What?” I turn around and she points to a picture on the screen—in a traffic snarl deep in some city are two VW Beetles.
“And it doesn't count on a car lot,” she said as I scrambled for a web browser.
“I'm not heading there,” I said, doing an image search on Google. “Slug buggy yellow, slug buggy blue, red, green, blue, um … yellow, blue, black—”
“Are you done yet?” said Spring.
“Wait a second … just a few more pages … ”
