Chinatown Sticks

I somehow downed two pints while eating a hamburger with an old friend and got drunk. Realized I was in no shape to go on to the cmj show I planned on which would require drinking the rest of the day.

On my walk back home from the restaurant, a man approached me and this is the dialogue that proceeded:

Man: excuse me, could you hold this bag open? (Gives me a Dunkin Donuts bag) I need to take my donut out and put my coffee back in.

Anne: (confused but a little drunk) Sure.

(We keep walking, in the same direction)

Man: I like your shirt. Chinatown. It looks like you got it in Chinatown.

Anne: Thanks.

Man: Your hair too. You like you're from chinatown.

Anne: (silence)

Man: You eat with sticks?

Anne: Pardon?

Man: You know... (does scissor gesture with fingers)

Anne: Oh, sure.

Man: There's a chinese restaurant on Columbia with booths. You sit on one side, I sit on the other, we order food and talk. unless you like buffets.

Anne: (a little confused) That's nice.

Man: I want to learn how to eat with sticks.

Anne: It's really not hard.

Man: Yeah? My cousin eats with them like he was born that way. How long have you been eating with sticks?

Anne: I have no idea.

Man: I'm a construction worker. My name's Al. I work with a lot of chinese people. I'm in Chinatown all the time. What do you do?

Anne: I'm in publishing.

Man: You mean computers and stuff?

Anne: ... Yes.

Man: Are you married?

Anne: ... Yes.

Man: Well, this is where I turn. Into the projects. I bet you don't live in the projects. You're going past the park.

Anne: Yes.

Man: It was nice meeting you, Anne.

Anne: It was nice meeting you, Al.