I am fully aware of the risk of being charged with sanctimonious hypocrisy (along the lines of the Pharisee in Luke 18), but I still want to go ahead and thank God that I am, as far as I know, not someone whom people--especially strangers--want to punch within five minutes of being around. The guy in the restaurant just now, however, was someone I wanted to punch about three minutes after he walked in. Why? I would like to think the mouth is best used for eating when in a restaurant, not for blabbing on and on about seemingly every possible inane topic that springs to his springy mind. "Hey, last time I was here I had dadada, do you still have it? Oh, there it is, on the menu! ... What kind of wallet lasts for ten years? Look at my wallet! I test wallets by smelling them, that leather smell, before I buy them. Look at this wallet. ... Hey, why are you cooking the curry like that? Isn't it a bit weird to add onions to curry rice? Why do I think it's weird? ... Hey, I remember, I think I remember, last time I ordered this, you guys put a big piece of meat in it, but where is that big piece of meat now? Gosh, I still think it's weird to put onions in curry, or is that just me? ... Hey, this soup looks good, what is it? Oh, riiiight, egg drop soup-- I see the label now!" One of those time I wish I didn't understand Chinese. Meanwhile, of course, the guy is getting up and sitting down every thirty or forty seconds, flipping through a magazine, digging in his pockets. Crack head? Or just way too "chipper" a fellow? Sadly, there are zipperheads and motormouths in every language.