Staying Classy

I've mentioned before that I live in Chinatown.

On the end of my block is a house/grocery store called [City I Live In] Paradise, also written in Chinese but I read the English version. They compete with 7-11 around the corner but the sheer lack of nutritional ambition in the 'hood creates a pretty captive audience. Tonight I was cold and I thought I might get a bag of chips. I've been eating a lot of crap lately and when I eat crap, I crave more crap. Anyways. I stepped in and realized I had never noticed: THEY ARE RUNNING A SMALL FAST FOOD JOINT OUT OF THE BACK.

I ordered a cheeseburger and fries with some cash I had from participating in research (it involved electrodes, I sh*t you not) and perused the ads on the wall. If you're on assistance in this city you can get a bus pass for the whole month for $15! However, I'm not sure what assistance pays so maybe that's actually really steep.

I had been lamenting the availability of a burger joint on my way home, believe it or not, and within four minutes a man handed me a loaded cheeseburger and a carton of fries with complementary gravy. The quality is small-town hockey arena and although my mostly vegetarian self now has slight heartburn it was worth every delicious mouthful. The couple running it asked where I lived. I said something about "four houses up the street" and they said "oh yeah, the one with the red door!" which was not surprising to notice as it's traditionally Chinese to have a red front door (sometimes two) for luck. I'm not sure my roommate knew this when she painted it.

Dude, they will deep fry eight perogies for $2. Luckily, they are not open after 7 pm so I will never be tempted to try and eat the whole menu, which includes deep fried Pizza Pops and very suspicious Mexican offerings.

Yesterday walking home I discovered there is a Sausage Haus three blocks from where I live. The Haus claim is verified. It's a German grocery store (heavy rye bread, Blackforest cake, Milka...).

My walk home is kind of like It's A Small World at Disneyworld, if the ride involved greasy food from six geographically polar ethnicities instead of a high pitched song. Technically, after dark it's a little more Pirates of the Carribean and you should probably carry a shank, but that's not exactly my scene.

I decided next weekend I would attempt to pawn the DVD player I haven't used in over three years (no television, plus rental places don't tend to like neighborhoods I live in). I've never sold anything to a pawn shop before and am interested in the experience. There are also at least six churches nearby, one promising some kind of Polka Service. Lutheran? I can do Lutheran.

What I'm saying is I'm embracing my life here for the last two and a half.

You can fight the power, seeking out enclaves of the comforts you're used to, or you can just belly up to the noodle bar and stop asking what kind of meat that is.