The other day at the noodle shop, this guy was tucking into a bowl of soba and slurped with such strength and intensity that I thought he would inhale the chopsticks, the bowl and maybe even the table along with the noodles. One of his slurps echoed off the opposite wall, rebounded off the darkened woodwork and bamboo screens, knocked the bandana off the serving lady’s head, careened along the painted concrete floor, threatened to topple a rather elegant flower arrangement in an over-sized vase, and was finally dissipated by the flapping paper fans of the blissfully ignorant hen party seated in the opposite corner.
It was the Ringling Brothers circus of slurps, world-class, top-of-the-line, one-of-a-kind, not-to-be-missed.
OK, I would have been happy to miss it. Must remember to invest in some ear plugs.