Notes » February 2004

Batting .500

I almost got through Tsim Sha Tsui without being hassled by hucksters trying to sell me lousy tailoring or fake luxury watches.

Three guys were about to approach, but changed their minds. I don't know why; I'd showered. I wasn't wearing a hockey mask and carrying a chainsaw; nor did I have a homicidal leer on my face.

I grinned. That frightened them; they're used to surly and uncooperative.

The peace didn't last. The next three weasels weren't deterred, and thus I resorted to a tried and true method for getting them to cease and desist.

Next time I'll look them in the eye and say: Estoy apesadumbrado, yo no hablo inglés.

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