I walked at night, here on Lulu Island. As I entered Starbucks café, sitting at a table with two Doritos bags of chips, one purple and one red, were Peter the redheaded Anglo and Hans the Netherlander on a motorized wheelchair, who offered to me. I took a few chips from both bags. Then, I was drinking reddish Passion Tango iced tea, then Oat Nog Latte. I was munching on crème brûlée almonds. I was exercising with my hand grip strengthener at my table. There were a regular couple with seemingly American spoken accents. The man was a handsome white-haired bear, always wearing a sports outfit. At Hans' request after he exited, Peter gave the purple Doritos bag to me and the red one to Chris the Japanese-English hybrid, who was a barista. The other barista was Jessica the petite Vietnamese. There were Filipino customers. Jessica asked me if I knew what was "lomi" (a Filipino noodle dish). I said that it was "rāmen." Homebound, walking, I accidentally tripped on a wooden board in a dark alleyway. My eyeglasses fell off. Luckily, I was not hurt. A Cantonese labourer helped me. Today is the 14th of December of 2024.
Source: tatoeba (12914517)
During the week, in the afternoons, elders huddle around a front table at Starbucks café. There are Hans the Netherlander on a motorized wheelchair, Peter the redheaded Anglo, Květa the Czech lady, Gilles the Québecois, the Greek couple Stella and Dimitri, Joan the Norwegian-Anglo who thinks that she has Native blood, etc. People think that Hans reminds me of Santa Claus...
Source: tatoeba (12914527)
Today is the 14th of January of 2025. It was night at Time Hortons café. I ate Sea Salt Potato Wedges with Wildberry Hibiscus Lemonade Quencher. Joban the South Asian was my vendor. In the morning, I had a couple or more cups of Green Tea with Oat Milk, which, someone expressed, "tastes like ice cream." It was night at Starbucks café. I ate two Belgian Liège Waffles. The Brown Sugar Oat Cortado interestingly tasted like jackfruit. I was going to tell the Japanese-Anglo hybrid Chris the barista or Jess the Anglo barista. Money is just an inhibitor, sometimes. Money is poverty, sometimes. Life should always be sensual, a sensory wonderland. Life is ephemeral, full of fleeting experiences. Do I believe in the Akashic Records, the memory compendium about everything? The following day of the 15th, I saw Hans the Netherlander in his motorized wheelchair at Tim Hortons. We sat near the sun-drenched bay window, as we chatted and ate Sea Salt Potato Wedges. I was drinking Orange Pekoe tea with Oat Milk for a change.
Source: tatoeba (12980629)
After 9 in the sunny, blue-sky morning, I walked to Starbucks café, there to drink Passion Tango iced tea, which contained hibiscus, lemongrass, cinnamon, passion fruit, pineapple, and so forth. Mark, Pepe, and Jason dropped by, and I greeted them. Mark is a second-generation Japanese-Canadian. Pepe is from Chile. And Jason is an Anglo whom I call "Mr. Sci-fi." In fact, we call each other "Mr. Sci-fi," despite that he claims that I am more "sci-fi" than he is. I mentioned today the book, The Silmarillion, by J.R.R. Tolkien, but it is really more of a fantasy-genre book. Homebound, I wandered through Dunoon Drive to view the big pink magnolia blossoms. Later in the day, I will venture again to St. Albans Road to wander through the bloom-fall of sakura, the pink cherry-blossom trees.
Source: tatoeba (13258596)
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