I met my friend Luke at the bustling Shanghai Dumpling House in Chinatown last night. They always play cheesy music there, which I find perversely enjoyable. Anywhere else, I'd be groaning and rolling my eyes. Last time I went, they played My Heart Will Go On, Rhinestone Cowboy and Them Old Cotton Fields Back Home. The only song I remember from last night is Happy Birthday, played at ear splitting volume just as Luke stepped through the front door as if they had been waiting for his arrival. No, it wasn't his birthday. I assume someone there was having a birthday, but it wouldn't surprise me if they played it just because.
I find much of the dining experience at the Shanghai Dumpling House perversely enjoyable. You're crammed shoulder-to-shoulder with total strangers, you eat off plastic plates and drink your wine out of plastic picnic cups with handles and the staff bark at you like drill sergeants, "Fried pork dumplings!!".
I saw that guy from my street out walking again this morning, only this time he had two dogs with him. You know how last time the dog ran along in front of his owner with a really long stick sideways in his mouth? This time, both dogs ran along side by side, jaws clamped on the same long stick.
I had an awesome hot chocolate at the European Cafe after work tonight.
What do you find perversely enjoyable?