Remember when I once talked about a notorious chicken rice shop surrounded by cheap upstairs brothels?
Now we have a spicy Sichuan chicken shop frequented by said working girls - and their attendant pimps. Unlike the previous haunt which was replete with aspiring natives, this new restaurant seems to have drawn an entirely Chinese mainlander clientele. Utterly unsurprising that they should congregate at this Sichuan restaurant since there are few other stores run purely by the mainland Chinese.
And their continued patronage obviously accounts for the odd opening hours of the eatery which runs from late evening till the early morn. Just about time for the China Dolls to make a quick early breakfast stop before taking that slow walk home.
I have to admit I balked a bit after encountering several dolled-up pleasure workers having their early bites before punching in to work. It wasn't the prostitution that caused me to flinch since I have always been an advocate of legalizing the profession, it was the unwelcome sight of their satellite hustlers who kept a constant vigilant eye on them. Fit the sleazy whoremonger stereotype down to a tee from their brash unforgiving mien down to their brazen neon-coloured tattoos.
But I had too much of a craving for spicy Sichuan eggplant to bother much.
So as the China doll on the next table lit up her cigarette with disdain, I flipped through the massive menu that was unceremoniously dumped on the rickety table. Funny this penchant the Chinese have for excessively large menus rivalling the size of medical textbooks with endless pages listing down every possible dish known to the entire Chinese diaspora from the obscure roasted flying fox to the mundane egg foo yong.
But even the spicy dishes failed to interest me as much as the scintillating conversation on the table next to me. Soft-spoken and genteel obviously wasn't the selling point for these girls since their lusty, vociferous voices muttering the occasional profanity carried through the entire restaurant. Aided and abetted no doubt by their similarly uncouth companions.
Doll : Hey, that guy keeps watching us.
Pimp : Well, he could be a paying customer soon.
Doll : Well, he's surely better than the old fart I had last night.
Pimp : Keep it down.
Doll : Why bother? They all know what we're here for.
I had to love her honesty. Though it wouldn't take long for her to guess that I would never be a paying customer. Amazing gay-dar these working girls.
Though I did want to ask her where they were keeping the hot Chinese working boys?
Now we have a spicy Sichuan chicken shop frequented by said working girls - and their attendant pimps. Unlike the previous haunt which was replete with aspiring natives, this new restaurant seems to have drawn an entirely Chinese mainlander clientele. Utterly unsurprising that they should congregate at this Sichuan restaurant since there are few other stores run purely by the mainland Chinese.
And their continued patronage obviously accounts for the odd opening hours of the eatery which runs from late evening till the early morn. Just about time for the China Dolls to make a quick early breakfast stop before taking that slow walk home.
I have to admit I balked a bit after encountering several dolled-up pleasure workers having their early bites before punching in to work. It wasn't the prostitution that caused me to flinch since I have always been an advocate of legalizing the profession, it was the unwelcome sight of their satellite hustlers who kept a constant vigilant eye on them. Fit the sleazy whoremonger stereotype down to a tee from their brash unforgiving mien down to their brazen neon-coloured tattoos.
 |
| Trust me, hardly any of the pimps looked like this. If they did, I would have hired them. |
But I had too much of a craving for spicy Sichuan eggplant to bother much.
So as the China doll on the next table lit up her cigarette with disdain, I flipped through the massive menu that was unceremoniously dumped on the rickety table. Funny this penchant the Chinese have for excessively large menus rivalling the size of medical textbooks with endless pages listing down every possible dish known to the entire Chinese diaspora from the obscure roasted flying fox to the mundane egg foo yong.
But even the spicy dishes failed to interest me as much as the scintillating conversation on the table next to me. Soft-spoken and genteel obviously wasn't the selling point for these girls since their lusty, vociferous voices muttering the occasional profanity carried through the entire restaurant. Aided and abetted no doubt by their similarly uncouth companions.
Doll : Hey, that guy keeps watching us.
Pimp : Well, he could be a paying customer soon.
Doll : Well, he's surely better than the old fart I had last night.
Pimp : Keep it down.
Doll : Why bother? They all know what we're here for.
I had to love her honesty. Though it wouldn't take long for her to guess that I would never be a paying customer. Amazing gay-dar these working girls.
Though I did want to ask her where they were keeping the hot Chinese working boys?
2 comments:
Hey Paul. It's nice to see that you're still diligently writing your superb blog. Used to be a an avid reader of yours when I was a blogger myself. But I kinda stopped so, it's been a long time since I've been here.
It's great to know that something that I grew up with are stll there (your posts) still there to enlighten people :)
Just wanna say hi haha.
And yeah.
Some people have the greatest gaydar. Some though, have the worst.
Parents mostly, with oblivious aunties and uncles hahahaha.
Hi rae!
Post a Comment