Hong Kong Chronicles: Was I gone for 3 weeks or 3 years?

I have a favorite little western retaurant around the corner from me. It's not always busy, which is one of the reasons it's my favorite place to go. The traditional way to tell a good restaurant around here is by how crowded it is. The caveat to this is the western style restaurant because it's usually slightly more expensive and has less familiar fare. The main thing I'm looking for is a different place to sit (other than my desk) that gives me some elbow room once or twice a week. I went to this restaurant before I left.

I returned last week and approached the restaurant from a different angle. And passed it up. No. Hold up. Wait. There's the grocery store. There's the...okay. Maybe if I walk back that way, I'll. No. No. Am I on the right street? Okay. Wait. I have jetlag. Think. Think. Think. ... Ow. That hurts. ... I know, I'll go to the corner I usually start from... and walk back... and it's usually...wait. There's a completely gutted shell. But, wait. It was a bigger restaurant... and there is.... a fully functional Manning's drug store in the other part.

Walk to the end. Walk back to the other end. Stand and stare for about 5 minutes.

Was I gone for three years?

My brain fog is rolling in. I'm confused. I'm dazed. I'm puzzled.

I'm awed at the speed with which a determined set of people can rip out a restaurant, install a store, and have it fully functional and operating like it's been there for three years. The only evidence was the new cement on the step up to the store. The only evidence.

Sigh. I'll go to the sandwich shop that makes me retract my elbows.

On my way there, one of the flyer-ladies thrusts a paper in my face. I came to Hong Kong with a mindset that flyers were the street equivalent to junk mail. Mmm. Kinda. They are hawking something...a restaurant, service, or store. However, because of the vertical nature of the environment, you often have no idea of the wealth of little businesses run right under...er, above...your very nose without the assistance of these useful little brochures. So, I sometimes take them. Sometimes I ignore. This time I took.

Ah! My favorite restaurant moved! Here it is.

I go up, tastebuds re-tuning for my mushroom linguine and rose milk tea. It was crowded. I couldn't find one of the comfy seats I always enjoyed. However, my tastebuds were tuned and what can you do when you tune them. Twice. So, I ordered. I tasted.

This isn't rose milk tea. This is a rose latte. I don't want coffee. I want tea. I wanted the mushroom linguine. Hey! Their prices are more expensive! Am I in the right dimension? Did I end up in a special hemisphere as I flew over the international date line? Can I still contact my family? What year is it? Am I on Candid Camera?