She anticipates receiving the menu like a gymnast does the other uneven bar.
Knowing the waiter will place it into her hand before pouring water, but only after proffering the napkin.

“Striped snake for curing gland disease, nervous breakdowns and generally improves health,” says a placard on the wall, while another sign highly recommends the minced snail dishes for ‘general debility’.

Though not cult-infused asia, speciality dishes can be confrontational.
Particularly for the uninitiated.

Professional catchers in the hills supply.
She asks for the sideline medicine.
The special stuff.

“Blood.  A shot. To start.”

“Very good, Ma’am.”

“We’ll see.”





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