In the end, Bruce still couldn't muster up the courage to use the kitchen utensils here. It wasn't because he was timid, because he just saw a man leaning next to him taking drugs and putting a handful of plant roots into the pot.
He doesn't require the dishes to be completely clean and hygienic, but at least they can't be poisonous, right?
Arriving downstairs, Bruce decided to survey the terrain first. At this time, it was almost dusk, and there were still many people on the street, so it was quite noisy. Bruce felt that he was out of place here, and everyone felt strange.
looked at him.
Bruce knew that not many people knew him. Bruce was more famous among the upper class circles because those people could afford entertainment magazines and could often see him fooling around in bars.
However, people here can basically only afford ordinary newspapers, which rarely contain gossip news, and if they don't read magazines, they probably don't know what Bruce looks like.
Bruce lowered his head and glanced at his clothes. He was not that stupid. He came here wearing a brand name, but he was wearing unbranded clothes, which were no different from those worn by Gotham citizens walking on the street.
Bruce thought that the problem might be his shoes. He had just rushed from the shareholders' meeting and had not had time to change out of his leather shoes. He also forgot to take off his watch. He might be a little out of place here.
The watch is easy to handle, just take it off and put it in your pocket, but if he takes off his leather shoes, where will he find shoes to wear?
Bruce looked around and found that many people were wearing boots. This was indeed a good choice. After all, it rained all year round in Gotham, and a pair of sturdy rubber boots could prevent the feet from getting wet.
Bruce was very lucky. He found a shop selling boots on the corner of the street. There was no one there when Bruce went there. He leaned his upper body into the somewhat closed store and asked, "How much do rain boots cost?"
The store owner who was settling the accounts looked up at him and said: "Five dollars, add another two dollars, and get an umbrella as a gift..."
Bruce raised an eyebrow, not because he thought it was expensive, but because he thought it was too cheap. He reached out and took a pair of boots from the cabinet next to him. He looked at them and found that the material was very thick and the joints were well made.
So he said: "Give me a pair of boots and an umbrella."
The store owner said: "Put down the pair in your hand. They are for display. Wait a minute."
With that said, he walked into the room inside, took out a pair of boots and an umbrella, and handed it to Bruce. Bruce didn't accept it immediately, but looked at it. After receiving it, he also checked it carefully.
Then he handed the money to the shop owner.
On the way back, Bruce found a hot dog shop on the roadside, and he bought another hot dog for two dollars.
Back at the rental house, Bruce immediately changed his shoes, took off his watch and hid it, then opened the hot dog package and took a bite.
The next second, he frowned hard. The buns and sausages of this hot dog were pretty good, but there was too much sauce. The moment he entered the mouth, the sauce poured directly into his throat.
It almost made him vomit.
In addition to the rich mayonnaise, there is also spicy chili sauce, and there are several slices of pickled cucumber and chili rings in the hot dog. There is almost no bread aroma and meaty flavor of sausage, leaving only the taste of sauce in the mouth.
Bruce endured the discomfort and ate the hot dog, and then ran to the faucet and drank two sips of tap water.
Finally suppressing the weird smell of spices, Bruce coughed hard twice, shook his hands, and propped himself on the edge of the sink. He thought, maybe he was too pretentious. In the slums, there was too much sauce.
, should be regarded as an advantage, right?
But soon, he realized that he was too young, because within 20 minutes, he started to have stomachache.
He was caught by the mouthful of sauce before, and hurriedly went to the water pipe to drink water, but he forgot that this was not his manor, and there was no expensive and terrible water purification system. This was
Mendeleev didn't even know what was in the tap water in Gotham's slums.
His stomach, which was used to eating plain food, was not used to the large amount of chili sauce and chili rings. Coupled with the tap water that was as regular as the periodic table of chemical elements, Bruce squatted in the toilet all night and did not feel better until late at night.
After a while, I lay on the bed and fell asleep.
When he opened his eyes again, it was already close to noon. Bruce wanted to go find work early in the morning, but now he was faced with another problem, that is, what to do for lunch?
Yesterday's dinner did not replenish him with any energy. Instead, it made him a little dehydrated. Now he is thirsty and hungry. He dare not eat or drink anything for fear of causing gastroenteritis again due to bacterial problems.
Now he understood what Maggie meant. It is really difficult for people who did not grow up here to survive, because in addition to having a firm will, a flexible mind, and strong endurance, you must also
He has a stomach of steel.
Suffering from weakness, Bruce felt that he still had to cook for himself. He decided to buy some food, but he didn't know where to buy it. Fortunately, when he was going downstairs, he met the Asian woman who was cooking before.
This woman lived on the third floor. She told Bruce that he could go to a nearby street where there was a vegetable supermarket. If he wanted to buy meat, he could only go further to the slaughterhouse next to it.
Arriving at the place where the woman pointed the way, Bruce found that the prices here were really cheap, and the boots, umbrellas and hot dogs he had bought before might have been cheated.
For less than one dollar, he can buy vegetables that will satisfy him for a full meal. Although the vegetables here are not very fresh, and some even look like defective products discarded by high-end restaurants, they are at least edible.
Bruce felt that he had to buy another pot, because no one knew what was cooked in the pot in the public kitchen.
Bruce asked the vegetable vendor where he could buy pot. The black vendor thought for a while, scratched his head and said, "How about you go to the grocery market next door?"
On a street not far from the vegetable supermarket, there is a grocery market, which sells everything, hardware parts, daily necessities, second-hand goods, pots and pans...
Bruce did see a pot seller, but the problem was that the pots here were all second-hand, and they seemed to have wrong origins, or in other words, most of the things here had wrong origins.
Bruce saw the logo of a restaurant he was familiar with, and the reason why the set of dishes appeared here was definitely not a kind donation from this restaurant.
Walking on the road to the grocery market, Bruce seemed to have arrived at a large-scale stolen goods sale. He thought, no wonder Selina would live here. No wonder, every time he didn't catch Selina on the spot, the stolen goods would disappear overnight.
But there was no way, he had no choice at all. He knew that it was impossible to have that kind of organic supermarket in the slums. After shopping for a long time, Bruce finally chose a frying pan, and he also tried bargaining for the first time, and then he
I found out that he had really been tricked before.
This ordinary frying pan cost 3 US dollars, and the final price was negotiated to 60 cents. In the end, Bruce left the grocery market carrying an iron pan and many vegetables. His back as he walked on the road was heavier than Batman.
Afterwards, he went to the slaughterhouse and bought some fresh minced beef. When he returned to his residence, Bruce didn't dare to use tap water to wash vegetables or even use it to wash the pot. He could only fill the pot with water, put it on the stove, and boil it.
After boiling, pour out the water, then scrub it carefully, then boil another pot of boiling water and let it cool down, then use it to wash vegetables.
By the time all the dishes were taken care of, it was already past lunch time. Bruce, who was always used to eating on time, felt a little pain in his stomach.
After he started frying the beef patties, Bruce felt even more uncomfortable. He didn't know how the kitchen was designed. No matter which direction Bruce stood on the side of the pot, he was facing the lower air outlet. There was no range hood, and the smoke from frying meat kept hitting his face.
He jumped up and choked so hard that he couldn't open his eyes.
The stove used a gas tank, but the knob was in disrepair, and it was difficult to control the low and low heat. I threw in a handful of spinach leaves and stewed them for half an hour and they were still not cooked. I threw sliced potatoes in and the pot was cooked in two minutes.
Bruce was not very good at cooking, and being able to cook the food well was considered a gift. However, he really couldn't control this kind of heat, which was closer to metaphysics.
When eating, these vegetables that were not cooked well made it even more difficult for him to swallow. After eating for more than an hour, the sun had set. He had just finished lunch. When he was washing the pots and dishes, he was hit by the setting sun again.
The afterglow stung my eyes so much that I couldn't keep them open.
Before this, he had never thought that he was such a hypocritical person. He felt that his willpower was very strong. He could run a kilometer after being shot twice. He had experienced countless pains and was still willing to step onto the battlefield.
Such a great hero never thought that he would be defeated by trivial matters in the world.
He never thought that he didn't want to cry because of the wounds left by the heinous criminals, but that he was choking on tears because of the human smoke hidden in the dusk light.
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The bat fell headlong to the bottom of the cliff, only to realize that there was no grand battle to be fought here. The biggest enemy he had to face was the small and trivial but ubiquitous dissatisfaction. It was not difficult, but
If you take one wrong step, you will no longer be able to recover from the situation.
After finishing his meal, Bruce sat on the small balcony in the living room, listening to the drunkards yelling and cursing upstairs, the couples quarreling downstairs, smelling the stench brought by the garbage trucks on the street, and feeling the surge of gastric juices. Here
Watched the sunset quietly.
At this moment, he suddenly felt that he had been enlightened, which was an effect that no psychological treatment could achieve.
Because here, the death of a parent may make people very sad, but they don't have much time to grieve, because they have to go to work and pay rent, buy groceries, cook and go to the market, eat, sleep and take out the trash.
Grief, grievance, entanglement, and nostalgia are best compressed into a few days. If they are like Batman and struggle for ten years, they may starve to death.
Only the bats hanging high in the attic have time to imagine themselves as the avengers in the dark. Humans standing on the ground just want to think about what to eat tomorrow.