Lunch and Peter Lorre

JS Bach piano sonatas, where the dance across the keys is a carefree & confident one; where notes are like bubbles in champagne during gala conversation. I am happiest with Bach, where nothing could go wrong, tho I do fancy being happily drunk on mimosas to Chopin’s piano impromptu No. 1 in A-flat major, Op. 29.


Speaking of which, today’s theme has been oranges, or in general, citrus. I spotted images of oranges all day, and then there was talk of rainfall and orange groves with a friend over a lunch of Thai food, after which orange wedges were served as dessert.

The restaurant host (I assume this was his role) was a very formal man and was well-dressed (in all black) but had the pallid air of a mortician. I was reminded of Peter Lorre, where no matter how amiable he behaved, he still came off as if he were plotting gruesome murder. The waitresses, meanwhile, wore cheerful maroon jumpsuits with golden-yellow flourishes and spoke to each other in their native language.

We decided on Thai food because we would rather be among Americans at a restaurant serving foreign cuisine than with Americans at a restaurant serving American fare. They seemed to behave better while soaking up another culture. For one, there were no screaming kids, and no one had nauseating amounts of food on their plates, which is a common and very unappetizing sight at the American buffet we initially considered. There also were no giant flatscreen TVs.

When lunch was over, Peter Lorre emerged seemingly out of thin air to take the tab I had just signed. He bowed politely and carried it away. True to an undertaker.


I then sat watching an older woman — a patron — who sipped a large cup of tea and gazed out the window. She wore dark sunglasses that covered even the outer corners of her eyes, in the style of Yoko Ono or even the Terminator.

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