Take Me to Chinatown

I drove Thursday this week, a day after the SF Giant’s World Series Parade attracted record crowds.

The morning was spent driving to and from the airport — I had 4 trips to SFO before noon.

In the afternoon I picked up an impeccably dressed middle-aged guy near Levi’s Plaza. He wore bright white pinstripe pants with a colorful bow-tie, his hair was perfectly gelled on top of a chiseled face.

- “Where are you headed today?” I asked.
- “Take me to Chinatown,” he replied. “I’d like to get some presents for the kids.”
- “Where are you in from?”
- “North Carolina.”
- “Oh I think I was there once for spring break with the family. There’s water near there right?” I can be a real idiot with smalltalk sometimes.
- “Yes, North Carolina is adjacent to the ocean.”

Redirecting the conversation, “Where in Chinatown do you want to go?”
- “Somewhere near the shops with all the knockoff purses and stuff,” he said. I wondered, would he tell the kids that they were knockoffs? Maybe they specifically requested, Dad get us the $10 coach bag!
- “Okay I’ll take you to the entrance close to Union Square so you’re oriented.”

A quick trip up Pine Street had us quickly approaching Grant Ave when he says, “Wait, no this isn’t it I want the other Chinatown.”

- “The other Chinatown?”
- “Yeah the one right across from the water with all the purses and stuff.”
- “Sir, this is Chinatown. ‘Shops across from the water’, sounds like you might mean the Fisherman’s Wharf?”
- “I guess, but there’s all these Chinese shops with cheap purse knockoffs and stuff.”
- “Yeah, I think you’re referring to the Fisherman’s Wharf near the piers. There are a lot of Chinese people that own or work at those shops. There’s a lot of Chinese people here in general.”
- “Oh. That’s probably it.”

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One Response to Take Me to Chinatown

  1. See, two wrongs do make a right.

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