Today I am in Causeway Bay. Whenever I go to Causeway Bay it is raining. If ever there is a drought in Hong Kong, I should do us all a favor and go to Causeway Bay.
I bought some shirts. I almost bought some McDonald’s. I turned and looked up at the sign, thought about the onions I would not want on my cheeseburger, and then, after a bout of mid-street hesitation, shunned my heritage. They call them golden arches but they have always struck me as freakish, cartoon eyebrows.
In the age of masks, eyebrows couldn’t be more important. Where the McDonald’s eyebrows seem to be laughing hysterically or perhaps screaming for help, I use my eyebrows to say hello yes I would like to purchase all five of these black shirts and I am okay with credit card debt.