The man turns his back on me, humming to himself. It sounds like the crosswalk music near my place. It can’t be anything else. I hum the last few bars of “Comin’ Thro’ the Rye” along with him. He looks over his shoulder and winks at me. I think the man on two stools is cringing. “Aw, cheer up, sir!” he teases in his dialect. “You scared of something?”

“I am scared … of her.”

“You coward. She’s harmless!”

A part of me wants to argue that, but the rest of me — the hungry part — just wants to eat. I relax with my now-perfect cup of warm green tea and pour myself a fresh cup just in time for the man to set a steaming bowl down in front of me.

“Here you are. One VERY special kitsune udon!” It looks so delicious it glows, like there’s a halo over the bowl. Hang on. There’s something glowing all right. Inside the bowl. It looks all too familiar. Wait, no. I think it’s a reflection of the lights overhead. Didn’t this same phenomenon happen in my apartment the other day?

I’m tripping. I think.

The other man stares at my food in horror. “How did you …?” he begins.

“Tut, tut. A good chef never reveals his secrets.” The fox man beams. “Eat up, my dear! Eat up!”

All of a sudden I’ve just hoovered the glowing aburage pocket down, wolfing down this giant bowl of soup and noodles with a hunger I’ve never experienced. I’m lost in a wash of sweet-and-sour flavour, slurping up every thick chewy noodle, alternating between the udon and bites of sweet aburage. The hardest part is not moaning in pleasure with every delectable bite.

“Umai ka?” the man asks.

Of course, it is. “Meccha umai!”

“Ja!” The man slips another aburage into my bowl at the last minute, just as I’m on my last bite. A little bit of soup drips down my chin. I giggle, embarrassed. The man chuckles, too. “Daijoubu! Shinpai shinaide yo! Eat, eat!”

The whole time I can tell the fish man is watching me. He’s hardly taken another sip of his beer. Who can blame him? He must think I’m a ravenous demon. He signals the fox man and asks again, “How did you …?”

The fox man wags his finger with a mischievous snicker. “Ah, ah, ah, be careful. She can understand you! You should hear her Japanese! So good! I was surprised, too.”

“Fine.” The fish man clicks his tongue and tries again: “So. How did you catch one of those …?”