Chinatown
More aging issues, this time dental; so back we go for address. Often when I'm down at our dentist's office, I walk around the neighborhood, look at swinging barbequed chickens and pig parts in the windows, peer into the gloom of the Chinese pharmacies, the oldest of which is closing after ninety some years of existence, and visit Uwajimaya's Asian supermarket. Groups of kids wandered around with teachers and parents, on what looked like a scavenger hunt for various foods. I looked at the case of chef's knives, wondering which kind I should get to replace the rag tag assortment of lousy blades I've been using for years.
Back to retrieve my mom, who always acts as if she's been beaten with a bag of oranges after sitting in our sweet, gentle dentist's chair; as we walk back to the car, she says all the people look alike to her.
Back to retrieve my mom, who always acts as if she's been beaten with a bag of oranges after sitting in our sweet, gentle dentist's chair; as we walk back to the car, she says all the people look alike to her.
posted by isabelita at 12:24 PM
3 Comments:
Your dentist's office sounds like it's in a neighborhood I'd like. And I like your mother's perspective.
You probably would appreciate the multitude of Asian restaurants and stores, mfm; as for my mother's perspective, she meant that everyone looked Asian, but she is in fact a very tolerant person.
Sounds like a neat place! So what kind of knives did you wind up purchasing?
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