SF Chinatown

Oh, Chinatown. You smell of dying animals, your cramped storefronts lure me in with shiny knickknacks, the local “gangs” remind me of high school and your food is just so-so.


New King Tin workers were handing out flyers on the corner of a street we were walking down, so my parents decided to try it for lunch. The restaurant was an oven. No air-conditioning, no fans, no good. The food was so bleh that I wondered how they could survive.


They serve something called “spicy sea blubber” which made me laugh and cringe at the same time. I’m not sure if it’s really blubber or they’re trying to make sea cucumber sound grosser than it already is.


As I swallowed my super bland chow mien, this kid kept staring at me.

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