Stayed Longer, Worked Harder

My younger daughter and I finished with the gym.  Its Saturday, so we stayed longer, worked harder than we are there early on weekday mornings.  On the way out we both felt good and sore.  Quietly I vowed to get up earlier in the morning, just ten minutes earlier would allow us to do so much more while we were there. 

On the way out I was on autopilot.  I turned left as we would any other morning and then we both realized we were not going in the direction we ought to, if we were hoping to get our jianbing.   I did a U-turn at the light and a left back at the next light.  My daughter took the ten renminbi note and went over to the jianbing carts.

For those of you who aren’t familiar, a Beijing breakfast staple is the jianbing guozi.  Woman usually, but not exclusively, roll up a three-wheeled cart with a skittle and buckets of toppings and wait at likely roadside corners for someone to come by.  First the batter is laid out on the hot skittle and a flat wooden stick is twirled around until a thin pancake solidifies, at which point they add an egg which is similarly spread thin to cook before a light, crunchy, fried layer is added, with scallions, sesame seeds and hot sauce.  

My daughter got the lady at the nearest cart going on her order and then a queue formed.  I looked back and she had moved on to the second car.  The lady was now serving someone else.  Had the lady ignored her?  I could see she that my daughter had one bing and that she was now talking to another lady.  I considered getting out of the car and inserting myself in to things.  But my daughter looked content and she was being served.  After twenty-five years I sometimes now have the self-discipline to resist assuming. 

In a moment my daughter was back in the car.  I asked her what had happened and she said the second lady, who was further back from the corner had complained that no one was visiting her cart.  My daughter had graciously spread the wealth and given the second lady a try for her second bing.  I asked her which one she wanted and she opted for the first lady’s effort.  I took the second, bit into it and and immediately praised mine as delicious.  We swapped and mine was, in fact a lot better, well wrapped, well presented.  My daughters’ looked sloppy as if the lady was in a rush to get on to the next delivery.   “I like yours better too.”    

Next time, we know.

Saturday, 02/25/27