Out to Lunch

Dear Diary:

I had been wanting to visit a certain secondhand shop in the East Village for some time. When I finally went, there was a sign taped to the door: “Out to lunch — Back in 10!”

I decided to wait. An older woman approached the store, tried the door, muttered something under her breath and tried the door again. I thought I understood bits of what she said.

“Do you speak Chinese?” I asked in Mandarin.

“Yes," she responded in Cantonese.

Mandarin and Cantonese are distinct enough that those who only speak one or the other can struggle to communicate. The woman and I cobbled together a lingua franca through hand-waving and the bits of Mandarin and Cantonese we both could understand.

She said she was looking for a bowl. I said I wasn’t looking for anything in particular.

Ten minutes passed with no sign of the storekeeper. The woman indicated that she wasn’t going to wait. She asked where I was headed.