Chicken Dance

Tried a new café near work today. As the weather gets hotter, I need a shorter walk and better air conditioning.

Using my best Vietnamese I ordered a large latte with low-fat milk and no sugar. A small cup of bitter, sugary black slurry arrived. 

Guess who walked in from the street and took a turn about the room?

    

In came Albert. None of the staff or customers even seemed to think there was anything odd about this. He was given free reign over the joint.

After a brief dance across a couple of tables, then along the top of the wall, he was gone.

I suspect that the next time I see young Albert, he will be flavouring a hearty bowl of Pho' Ga.