The Chinatown Stroll

I agonized over seeing if the Chinatown pet spa had finished grooming my dog or not; but I hated to be that guy. The guy who bothers people. The spa lady told me that I would get a text when my dog was ready, and I hadn't gotten a text yet. On top of that I was anxious about being late for an appointment.

So anyway I walked past the spa. "For sure I'll return and check on him soon," I thought, trying to restore my self-confidence. Lying to myself that I was just "giving the spa people more time" reduced my conviction that I was a pussy. I walked past the spa. I had no real plan. I had just finished a gym workout, but I hadn't walked a full thirty minutes after said workout. This could be my cooldown walk.

I entered an Asian liquor store near the spa. It was clean and smelled like a minty car air freshener. The store's AC was just weak enough to be uncomfortable. There was an oval, wrap-around counter in the center of the store, which looked more like a tourist welcome kiosk. The two clerks inside the oval had been laughing at something, but hushed as the the door's  bells announced my entry. I explored the entry alcohol section with its colorful porcelain containers, not a speck of dust on them. 

Then I walked past the oval counter to the whiskey section. I saw brands I hadn't heard of alongside the usual suspects: Jim Beam, Crown Royal, Hennessy...

I thought I would try to make conversation, so I approached one of the clerks: "Do you have any Asian whiskeys that are popular here?"

She looked at me anxiously, eyes widening, so I repeated my question. 

"Yes, whiskey," she said and extended both of her arms towards the whiskey section of the store I had just come from. "Whiskey there."

"Okay, okay," I said, compliantly. I know she saw me shopping over there, I thought. Then it occurred to me that she hadn't understood my question, but I didn't want to ask again. So I went back to the whiskey section and pretended to follow her guidance. 

I've got to be more courageous, I told myself. 

So I went back to her and said very slowly. "Do you have any Asian whiskeys here?" I decided to leave out the "popular" part in case that was the unknown concept. 

Then she looked at me as if I'd clapped too loud at a golf tournament. 

"No, no," she said. Slowly and looking slightly annoyed. Then she pointed at the whiskey section. "Whiskey there."

"Okay," I said cheerfully, trying to ignore her tone and energy. 

I waltzed back over to the whiskey section, explored for thirty seconds, and then slowly exited the building. 

I walked through an H Mart. The smells near the fish section were abhorrent, but the closer I walked towards the bad smells, the better the fish looked. The holy grail was a giant rainbow trout. I was expecting rainbow colors but it was mostly gray with a glossy sheen, like oil on the surface of the ocean. Its eye was equally glossy, almost like it was covered in a single giant tear. It looked sad as it lay there on ice, totally vulnerable and exposed. And the sounds of an employee spraying fish with a high pressure faucet overpowered the other nearby grocery store sounds. 

"I'm here," said the fish, in my imagination. "I died for you."

"Then why are you so sad?" I asked. 

"Because death isn't easy, you idiot."

"Fair fair fair."

I bought a couple items in the bakery as well as a $50 Buddha statue next door. It was golden with mysterious designs. And this Buddha looked more like a warlock than a prophet: his eyes gazing greedily at a peach in one hand, a gnarled staff in the other.

"I do what I want," said the Buddha. 

"Uh huh," I said. 

"Um, yeahhh," said the Buddha in a sassy, gay tone. 

"You're cute," said the Buddha. 

Then it was my turn for a gay tone. "Do you really mean that?"

"I sure do, queen."

No text, but I walked into the pet spa and picked up my dog.