one good thing about the unconventional location of my internship firm is the large number of watering holes* around us, all of which, were i a salaried person, i would avail myself of at mealtimes with relish and regularity. this plenitude did me no good at all this morning, however, for wandered as i did through the district in eager search not one was open before 11am, for me to get an early morning coffee and read for a half-hour or so before work. that would not have mattered either, on this particular morning, for on this morning i got to the office a whole fifteen minutes late (having missed my stop while reading on the train, twice.) except as it turns out a cafe was very necessary after all: three of the partners are out of the country, the one holding the fort was in court all day for a hearing, and the secretaries had been given the morning off. not armed with my own keys (it is my first day) i puffed to a halt before our locked doors, and paced for a time up and down the street roasting gently in the morning sun (consoling oneself with vague notions of the beneficence of vitamin d) and attracting curious and occasionally hostile looks from passersby. the morning sun rose further, it was then coming nine-forty and silk shirt, pant suit, high heels and laptop were getting much the better of me. a pot of tea and a shady seat was little to ask for, yet twenty minutes of hopeful perambulation past rows of restaurants did nothing but make me feel more and more like noah’s raven. (‘closed’ is a miserable word to hang on a door.) finally i beat a retreat to the nearest large commercial building and follow a sign to the third floor to find a pokey shop with an unhelpful cashier (i would not call him a barrista, he isn’t that skilled), no hot breakfasts, and nurse an unremarkable and pitfully small cup of flat white preparing to wait out the morning until they all get back after lunch. 11.30 having come and gone and still no one answering the office phone, and the coffee long-since drained town proper began to hold more cheerful prospects: i trudge to the nearest bus stop. the avocado and the yoghurt i had brought to work for a mid morning snack was now small packages of clammy condensation. one of the buses, i saw, would take me to honglim park. perhaps i should sit there and eat my avocado in protest against bosses who do not give you office keys, but drawing in my petulance i find one that took me to the national library where wide tables, electrical sockets and airconditioning awaited.)

** morsels, lagnaa, rouse, cocotte, zsofi, the banana leaf apolo…)