The weather was shite, and QQ was under it. We had laundry to do, and the best course of action seemed to take a day off from prancing around Middle Earth, looking for a precious or two.
So that's what we did - regrouped a bit. I did strike out toward the waterfront to see what it was like, maybe grab a coffee but it was a real, working waterfront. Warehouses, cranes, and a few gumshoes in fedoras, either lighting a fresh cigarette, or dramatically putting one out.
There's no in between with a gumshoe.
I got more sub supplies - damn a sub hits the spot sometimes - enough food for breakfast the next morning and a few sammies to go.
I did have one fun experience going out for dinner. It looked like it was clearing, so I headed out to a little Korean place just down the street, half a block. (I reached it by going 20 minutes in the wrong direction, backtracking, and blaming Maps for my trouble. Don't tell Mrs. F.)
A Little Korean Place... |
With a Little Korean Menu. |
I dramatically lit a smoke, cocking my head to one side, and through a haze of blue said in a gravely voice, "I'll have the photograph of the Chicken (chili sauce) $14.50, please."
"Coming up."
I dramatically stubbed and field stripped my smoke (so that it would be harder to track me to Auckland.)
One of the great things about Korean food is that you get so many little dishes of pickles. You get kimchi, you get some of the squarey one, and you get some of the funky slicy one, at a minimum.
No tricks or mirrors or camera effects - that is real chicken. And stunt steam. |
Oddly, it wasn't spicy enough. The kimchi had a nice kick to it, but I needed a bit more. Kim Flusher is pretty good at handling spicy, maybe even better than most when I'm in shape, but by no means will you find me on youtube gobbling ghost peppers and then sweating my eyes onto the table.
I found some likely looking red paste in one of the half dozen bowls at the side, and spooned some onto my plate. I tested it - no problem. I stirred a bit in to my food - no problem.
I ate it all up. No problem.
Hmmm. I found some finely chopped chilis in another bowl. I knew to be careful with these, so I took just a tiny end-of-a-spoonful and put just a bit into my bowl.
Then I separated one piece away - it was a little bigger than the other ones and easier to maneuvre.
Tested it.
Problem.
Prob-lem. PROBLEM! PROBLEMPROBLEMPROBLEMPROBLEMPROBLEM FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK AHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!
Oh my God it was hot. Beyond hot. Inferno. I did the stupid thing and chewed it up, fast, adding rice, and swallowed it down.
Sure, I'll use a spittoon as soon as the next guy, but no way am I going to blat drop a chewed up half-load of chicken with chili death pepper.
DO NOT EVER. NO. JAMAIS. STRANGER DANGER. |
I spent the next 20 minutes surgically picking out every last piece of that unsafe-at-any-speed death pepper, and feeling around for my eyeballs.
Somehow I managed to edge things back to where I could enjoy the rest of my meal, but it was a close thing.
In the end, I ate every bite, and counted it as a win. A great meal which I'd almost ruined, but then survived re-entry.
Good thing, too, because the next day, we would head to the Gold Coast.
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