The Wife of Chongan, Chrysanthemum, would come in from their apartment next door every work day at 3 AM. Many times, Carlos and I would be still hanging out, perhaps having fallen asleep, and scrambling to present ourselves, hiding any wine bottles and cigarette butts in case she popped her head in the door of my room. Carlos did not actually live with me, but stayed overnight many times. I am not really sure where he lived, he told me with his Mother and brother and sister somewhere. He had full use of the van, and so could come and go as he pleased, except for when the guests needed transport, and he was always on-call for that.
Chrysanthemum would begin heating the little oven and as soon as the first batch went in baking the cakes in the small oven, having prepared them in their apartment the night before. Oh! The wafting aromas of cinnamon and spices killed any lingering cigarette smells, Carlos and I could sleep no longer, and would get up and shower quickly before the brothers arose. The brothers time to awake was 3:30. It would be that about this time the phone would ring and Carlos would be summoned to pick up a couple of the brothers who had stayed overnight . . . someplace else.
You see, the zenkitchen was not purely for enlightenment, but also for a means of entertainment for a few of the foreign guests from China, who, actually, were rather wealthy, and had other intentions on coming to California. They could stay at the zenkitchen during the day and indulge in Chongan‘s fine cuisine, and relax during the sitting sessions; but also they could depart during the night and indulge in L.A.’s pleasure. Carlos would make sure of that.