May 8, 2013 3 Comments
Even postal workers are in on it, you should have seen the maniacal happiness in the eyes of the postal worker while I ruffled around in my wallet to find my driver’s license.
I don’t take the bait (any more). I calmly (kind of) step out of line and take my time, without the heckling. Find it and line up again. Nor do I take (visible) offense when the same postal worker peers at the license – then me – repeatedly as if I am buying a gun, rather than picking up my Amazon book.
So in this context, I am dumbfounded – no other word will do – to find a place like the Thai Market. Where women (I didn’t see a single man cooking) sit cross-legged and cook. Where everything is either €5 or €2.50. Where dishes are washed in pails of water. Fried chicken languishes in the sun. Hands don’t get washed for the 5 hour duration that the women are cooking.
Of course if the horse meat scandal in Europe and the rat meat scare in China have taught us anything, it’s that we are not as in control as we would like to believe, no matter all those inspectors going around swabbing door handles. (Did I ever mention that fending off said health and safety inspectors and bribing her with brownies and granola was one of my jobs in my other life?). Read more of this post