At 2 p.m., Wesley went downstairs.

Broken bread with wood chips? Roasted black bread? Or broken grass?

The gentleman in a dress was choosing today's dinner in front of the bakery.

His dress is very old, but clean. He uses patches with different color differences in conspicuous areas, and casual areas where it is not conspicuous.

But the dress is at least full set, with dovetails, vests, breeches, shirts, leather boots already wearing holes, and only half of the ribbon of the top hat is left.

Such people are not uncommon in Boston and the entire United States. They were young people who came to the New World with ambition to work hard, but in the end they were defeated by reality. While submitting to the present, they could not let go of the dignity and dreams of the past.

Anyway, ordinary.

A carriage stopped at the intersection, and a glamorous gentleman jumped out of the carriage, leaning on a long umbrella, tall and strong.

He picked up a beautiful red-haired woman from the car, and the two snuggled together, passed by his husband intimately, stepped onto the long street, and gradually drifted away.

The gentleman watched the beauty walk away like every competent man, until the curve in his eyes was no longer clear, and then he lowered his head.

"A man suitable for women's clothing, a woman born for men's clothing... This world is so strange."

He wrote down today's dinner on the buffet list, took off the saw beside the shelf, skillfully sawed a small piece of wood chip bread, held it in his hand, and slowly walked towards the counter scale.

"70 grams of bread, one penny, thank you." The sloppy store manager collected the money and pushed the self-service order and bread to the guy. The guy skillfully wrapped it in a paper bag, handed it out, threw the money into the money box, and put the self-service order into his pocket.

"Shopkeeper, I'll go shit," said the man.

"Don't go to the back door of Lao Gete's house. His wife stepped on shit yesterday and blocked the door and scolded all night."

"Let's understand, go to the side door today."

The lazy guy walked out of the back door, bypassed the two neighbors, and walked to the tavern of Lao Gete's house, which was very unfavorable to the store manager. He looked around and whistled and squeezed into the dark alley where the side door was.

The so-called dark alley is of course a broken alley.

Outsiders rarely know that there are lanes in the middle of the house on the street. However, for those shops that rely on traffic, the width of the shop determines how many people they can receive at the same time. Therefore, the lanes are artificially enclosed and become part of the store on the side facing the street.

The dark alley is dirty and messy.

Lao Gert's tavern mainly features inferior alcohol mixed with water. The other end of the side door is connected to the hall of the tavern. The nights here are as lively as on the streets. The daytime is full of dead ghosts, and occasionally corpses will be scrambled into them.

The guy stepped on the lying meat without anyone else, picked a good place to moisturize the soil happily.

After finishing the work inside, he took out today's self-service order from his pocket and stood up after working outside. He found that there was still one left in his other pocket.

"Go back, go back..." He threw away the order in disgust and whistled again.

The whistle turned out of the alley, and one of the flesh lying on the ground moved.

The drunkard reached out and groped on the ground. He almost grabbed the gift from his friend several times, and was lucky to avoid it. Time and again, he finally found a comfortable point of force.

Bang!

The big slap slapped the broken ground in the alley, grabbing the five fingers and supporting the drunkard, standing straight with his arms.

He burped limply and looked at the note he caught when he was holding it up in confusion.

"Lucky!" he smiled, he smiled, "I still had wine stored last night, and the wine list has not been lost yet. lucky, la... hiccup! I'm back home."

The drunk man stuffed the note into his pocket, staggered out of the dark alley, turned around and walked into the fence far away from a wooden house on the main street.

A young man in a waiter uniform came up and held him in his arms: "Uncle Ralph! Really, you're going to drink again!"

"Little Les! Hahahahahahaha! Little Les is going to work again to earn money from his uncle's wine, earn money from his uncle's wine..."

He was dancing with alcohol, and a piece of paper flew out of his pocket, hitting Les' forehead and falling into Les' arms.

Rice angrily pushed the drunk man to the ground, spread the note and took a look: "You even brought the wine list back! You can't afford bread at home!"

"Why are there wine? Hahaha, bread doesn't matter..."

"Bread doesn't matter, wine doesn't matter!" Little Rice took out a lighter from her uniform, lit a note in front of the drunkard, and threw it to the ground.

The drunk man screamed and rushed over, and went crazy with flames like stuffing a note into his mouth and chewing it.

"The fire is extinguished...the hiccup...extinguished, and you can drink again..."

"May God drown you with wine! I'm going to work!"

Leave his uncle who could not be redeemed, Les quickly walked out of the house and walked forward along the empty streets and alleys.

He soon came to Hengxiang, walked along Hengxiang through Wesley Street, turned into the side of the street, and walked through the back door into Lundy's Cafe with the selling point of "appreciating the various aspects of poverty and feeling the happiness of life".

"Shopkeeper, I'm working!" Rice reported.

"Little Les..." The kind-faced store manager leaned out, "Outside, order on the table No. 3."

"I'll go right now!"

Les trotted out of the gate and went straight to the No. 3 table close to the Henglan. On the table was a middle-aged painter who was concentrating on sketching his pen across the alley.

Les glanced at it and saw that the painting was not completed, but the corner of the painting board had been named, [Lowliness], humble.

The painter keenly noticed his eyes: "Young man, do you want to learn to draw?"

"No, sir." Les took out his order, "What do you want to drink?"

"One cup of latte, two puffs..."

A group of dirty children ran past the fence like the wind, laughing and making noises.

The painter covered his nose unhappily, and when he looked up, he saw Rice writing quickly.

"I need to write so many words for what I ordered?" The painter was puzzled.

"No one's life is easy, sir." Les stopped writing and ordered the order, "Please wait a moment, say goodbye."

He opened the store door and heard noise coming from not far away.

A red-haired beauty in men's clothing came through the street with a tall gentleman and walked intimately from the lower street to the upper street.

"Order...it's time to hurry."

Les entered the store and murmured to throw the order into the bar. The barista picked up the order and glanced at it, and asked softly: "What are the customers anxious?"

"All right away."

The barista tore off the order and turned into the kitchen. She wrote a wine list and handed it to her helper: "I used up the wine pairing of Irish coffee. Go to Lucas winery opposite to ask for a bottle. Hurry up, the guests will be anxious."

“A YA!”

The chef responded and ran across the main street as fast as possible into Lucas Winery: "Mr. Lucas, the teacher wants a bottle of Irish whiskey. This is the wine list, please hurry up!"

"Is it a bottle of Irish whiskey..." Lucas took the wine list and turned to get the wine. "Irish whiskey...Irish...the cabinet sold out."

"Then...what should I do!"

"Don't worry!" Lucas laughed, "As long as it is wine from his hometown, there will be private goods. I'll go upstairs to give it to you now."

"Please! Hurry up!"

"Okay, okay, impatient little guy, your Mr. Lucas has always been fast. Like this, very soon, very soon, very soon..."
Chapter completed!