Having done little except rewrite an essay and go to the gym, I decided a treat was in order. The kind dumpling lady chatted at me in Korean “where are you from? Are you a student?” And a bunch of colloquialisms I didn’t understand.
She saw that I hadn’t made it to dumpling four: “ah yes these are big, I know you’re full, I’ll pack it for you”. She dropped a note in the bag to say how I should reheat the leftovers. I didn’t have the heart (or vocabulary) to tell her I don’t have a kitchen but I appreciate her nonetheless!
She has been added to the list of “middle aged food friends” along with the friendly fried chicken man as people upon whom I can force my poor Korean and still be rewarded.