The western boundary of San Francisco's Chinatown, at the intersection of Kearny Street and Stockton Street.
Broadway Street.
Walking on the street, Zhang Jing tried hard to find one or several experts in graphics card design.
It turned out to be too beautiful except for tourists and normal residents.
There are also the third gender, homeless people, and psychopaths who dress and behave in exaggerated ways. It is impossible to tell who is a genius on the surface.
Like some neighborhoods in Los Angeles, it has a rather torn feel.
The causes are very complex, with many overlapping causes.
But these have nothing to do with Zhang Jing.
As a social parasite, he just wants to find from the army of homeless people those talented and knowledgeable students and geniuses who once lived a sensual life, but later saw their wealth shrink significantly due to the economic crisis and various reasons.
In order to find such a genius, Zhang Jing gritted his teeth and showed off his adventurous spirit of going to tombs, diving into the deep sea, and breaking into nightclubs!
He bent down to grab a handful of ash and wiped it on his face. He tore two holes in his clothes, took out the little Zhang Jing and sprinkled the urine on the side of the road.
Find a piece of cardboard and write: i'mveryhungry
Instantly become a member of the homeless army.
Sitting on the street corner, watching the people coming and going, Zhang Jing felt quite happy, wondering if he was a pervert or not.
No wonder so many people want to be homeless.
He was very lucky. In less than an hour, he met a cold and handsome man who had "Xi Xue" written on his coat in English and gave him 8 meters.
Thank you very much. Like other homeless people, Zhang Jing took 8 meters of Coke and potato chips.
After the sun went down, during this period, there were two handsome guys whose coats had "something to do not do" and "thirty-year-old bookworm" printed in English on their coats. They were rewarded with 1 meter and 2 meters respectively.
However, this money is not enough to buy the cheapest burger.
Just when Zhang Jing was about to end his homeless life early, a homeless man across the street sat next to him.
The homeless man weighs about 130 pounds and is about 1.75 meters tall. He looks thin and has a big brown beard. He is not old, about thirty.
"Brother," the young man with a brown beard sat down next to Zhang Jing and asked, "How much money do you have?"
Zhang Jing stretched out his right hand and opened his palm.
Seeing the three pieces of steel in Zhang Jing's hand collapse, the young man with a brown beard chuckled, "It's actually worse than me."
As he spoke, the brown bearded man also opened his palms and found seven dollars.
"Let's go," the brown bearded young man said directly, "I'll buy you a drink."
With stars in his eyes from hunger, Zhang Jing complained, "I want to eat meat."
The young man with a big brown beard said confidently, "If there is wine, there will also be meat."
Zhang Jing nodded, stood up from the ground, and followed the brown bearded young man to the convenience store that was about to close.
Because he was a homeless person, Zhang Jing could feel the cashier's vigilance.
The young man with a brown beard also felt it, but he didn't care and took two bottles of cheap wine from the shelf.
Go back to the cashier and put the seven dollars on the counter.
"There's still three yuan left."
Zhang Jing stepped forward and handed over his three yuan.
After buying wine and leaving the convenience store, the young man with a brown beard handed a bottle of red wine to Zhang Jing, "My name is Paul Keighley."
The names given by the Allies and the names given by the Ammu people do not make any difference in the eyes of Easterners.
Just like Westerners can't tell the difference between the name of a D-country person and the name of a corncob person.
Because he stayed there for a long time, Zhang Jing knew that 'Paul Keighley' was an Amu name, and he didn't understand why foreigners came to wander in the allied countries.
Thoughts flashed through his mind, and Zhang Jing replied, "My name is Jack Zhang."
"What a coincidence," Paul Keighley, who had a big brown beard, laughed. "I saw in the newspaper that the new boss of the MAT graphics card manufacturer also has this name."
Zhang Jing smiled.
"Let's go," Paul Keighley said, "Let's go find some meat to eat. We'll only be able to eat the leftovers later."
Zhang Jing nodded.
Following Paul Keighley, he turned around and came to the back of a cafe.
Although it is a back door, there is a signboard that says "Love Yao Yao Chong" in Chinese and English.
"The owner of this cafe is an Oriental," Paul Keighley introduced. "He will take out the remaining food for the day at seven o'clock in the evening."
"This is good."
While talking, Zhang Jing had already seen that other homeless people were gathering here, about seven or eight.
It will take about seven or eight minutes.
A handsome man in his thirties with middle-parted hair and a black long-sleeved shirt walked out of the back door of the cafe.
"He is the boss of 'Love Yao Yao Chong'," Paul Keighley introduced to Zhang Jing softly, "a very loving Chinese-American, and the homeless people nearby are very grateful to him."
Zhang Jing said nothing because the other party had already approached, placed a plastic box on the ground, then turned and left.
Inside are bags of various cookies and cakes packaged one after another.
Most people take one bag, and some people take two bags.
"This is dessert after the meal," Paul Keasley said in a good mood, holding the food in his hands, "Let's go find some meat now."
The food made people feel happy. Ten minutes later, Zhang Jing followed Paul Keighley to the back of a restaurant. Bayi Chinese website
Three chefs wearing white hats and white clothes were smoking and chatting in the alley.
"Hi," a chef with blue eyes and a high nose greeted, "Paul Keighley, you didn't come yesterday."
"There was enough food yesterday. Let's bring the newcomers here today to find the way."
"Okay," the blue-eyed, high-nosed chef chuckled, "You know the rules."
Paul Keighley nodded and looked at Zhang Jingdao under the dim light, "They have better food, but you have to play guessing with them. If you win, you will get meat, and if you lose, you will get nothing."
Zhang Jing is speechless, how boring is this?
"Don't worry," Paul Keighley comforted Zhang Jing, "We have two people, two chances, and a high probability of winning. They gave us a lot of food, one portion is enough for our dinner."
There are two small bowls with a dice in them, one, two, three, small, four, five, six, large.
The chef was smoking a cigarette and shaking the dice in two small bowls with both hands. He paused for a moment and laughed and said, "Guess, if you guess it right, the remaining red wine-baked steaks will be five and a half pieces." .”
Paul Keighley thought very seriously, as if he had some trick.
"Small!" Paul Keighley said with certainty, "It must be small!"
Zhang Jing could see clearly from the side that the dice was as big as a broad bean and contained fine metal components.
As Paul Keighley's voice fell, the dice flipped gently in the bowl.
As the small bowl is opened, the larger one comes out.
This annoyed Paul Keighley, who had a big brown beard. With a 50% probability, he actually missed the mark five times in a row.
This is simply the unlucky mother opening the door for the unlucky person. Unlucky as hell.
"This is my little friend," Paul Keighley pulled Zhang Jing and introduced him, "Give him a chance."
"Okay!" The three chefs agreed happily with smiles.
"Forget it," Zhang Jing refused, "I'll just eat biscuits tonight."
"No," Paul Keighley pulled Zhang Jing, "The probability is very high, 50%. Maybe there will be meat to eat at night."
