Night Market Awards

Saturday night I went to the Night Market with our first visitors to town. It's always a different experience being one who is supposed to be showing another around. It was a rainy night and the vibe in the market was very subdued: stalls were half set up, stacks of socks were being shuffled around, plastic wrapped t-shirts were being wiped.

At the "Fiery Crab" outdoor restaurant the waitress was pushing the six scallops in garlic for $60. She gestured across the lane for us to check out how fresh they were. There the scallops sat on ice in the rain with live prawns lying around them weakly waving their legs. It looked a little too dangerous and a little too fresh, so instead we had duck and vegetables and all the other basic Chinese delights. The duck came chopped in half, including half of the head and one baleful eye. There was a girl dressed in a Heineken cheerleader outfit who was pushing Heineken, but we drank Chinese beer and were much the better for it.

The last time I was at the Night Market, I had to push through the crowds between each stall. As soon as I walked up to look at anything the seller would be there with the patter and the pressure, the bargaining and persuading, but Saturday the market was populated by sullen sellers sulking on metal folding chairs. The women and men sat in the driest corner huddled over food in styrofoam and looked resigned.

I saw much more tacky items, too. Here are my nominations for the Night Market Awards.
The award for the worst t-shirt saying goes to: Bruce Lee is my Homeboy. (Runner up: When I need a lift, God gives me a push) Tackiest belt buckle goes to: I Heart New York. (Runner up: Rocky Mountain High) Most confused English goes to the t-shirt: What the fucking are you ding? Worst toy goes to: the doll entitled "Banana is a snack?" (Runner up: the blond hula doll that is activated by squeezing her breast.) And winner of tackiest souvenir overall goes to the gold cats waving their hands.