Sweet and sour with a fracas on the side

Downtown Sydney. Friday night. Christmas is approaching.

The sidewalk are alive with office party survivors; many have extreme difficulty putting one foot in front of the other.

Then there are the marching powder victims. Eyes spinning like fruit machines.

I had a sudden desire for peace and quiet; and a desperate (and unusual) need for some sweet and sour pork, old school.

I choose my Chinese eatery carefully; it looked peaceful enough; half empty but largely populated by Asians.

All good, then, until an ancient-looking musician with an old Chinese instrument began making a caterwauling noise in the doorway.

The restaurant owner/manager was unimpressed and a massive shouting/pushing match ensued.

The Mr Miyagi lookalike eventually retreated, only to inexplicably return a few minutes later, taking a seat in the eatery and resuming the altercation.

After much secondary shouting he eventually left. Ambience shattered.

When I went to pay the owner/manager refused to let me pay. Good hospitality. And the sweet and sour hit the spot.
   

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