Hanoi at 3 AM: Coffee, Chaos, and That One Street Dancer Who Keeps Showing Up

woke up to a city that smelled like wet concrete and old TikTok trends. the air was that sticky 24.67°C kind that clings to your clothes like it's plotting something. i swear the humidity was hunting me with its 89% grip. tried to open my laptop but the fan in the back of the room sounded like a dying goose.

mornings here are just a long sigh. i spent 45 minutes figuring out why my coffee was cold and then realized i’d left it in a bowl that looked suspiciously like a ancient tomb. the neighborhood watches. not literally, but like they know your secrets. if you get bored, [cities] are just a short drive away. someone told me that. drunk advice, probably.

the street dancer showed up again. same moves, same neon socks. i asked if she was new and she just smiled and did a spin. maybe she’s a ghost? or maybe i’m just bad at spotting patterns. i heard that. over a bowl of pho at 2 AM. the guy behind the counter said he’d seen her since 2012. or was it 2007? who knows? the place is called ‘The Drip’ - that’s what the sign says. weird name. maybe it’s a typo for ‘drip feed’? who cares?

weeds grew through my hostel door. not the kind you mow. the kind that come out of the ground like they’re judging your life choices. the weather was that 24.67°C with 89% humidity, which is basically a humidity fog that makes everything feel like it’s underwater. i just checked and it’s that kind of thing right now, hope you like that kind of thing. i don’t.

on the plus side, the neighbors are weirdly friendly. yesterday, an old man in a motorbike helmet gave me directions to a noodle stall that doesn’t show up on maps. he said it’s run by a ghost chef. i ate there. the noodles were good. maybe the ghost chef was just nice. or maybe he was mad about the lack of soy sauce. either way, i heard that. a drunk said it. over a rice ball.

i found a market stall selling vintage cassette tapes. one had a label that said ‘HT 1999’ which sounds like a typo for ‘Hanoi 1999’. i bought it. it plays a song about a car that meets a girl in a market. the singer’s voice cracks at 0.3 seconds in. probably a drunk recording it. again, i heard that. a kid told me. he was probably high.

i tried to take a picture of the dancer but my phone died. again. the last backup was a 2007 photo of a guy doing a backflip in a puddle. unrelated. maybe.

i asked a local why the dancer keeps showing up. he said she’s from the north. i asked if that means she’s a communist. he didn’t answer. maybe he was busy judging my outfit. i was wearing a jacket with a picture of a lemur. it’s vintage. i picked it at a market. the seller said it was from the 80s. maybe it’s a fossil. who cares?

i checked the weather again. still 24.67. the max and min were the same. that’s what i call consistency. the pressure was 1010, which is probably why the air feels like a old sweater. the ground level was 1005. not sure what that means. maybe it’s a code for ‘don’t trust the locals.’ or maybe it’s just a number. i’ll never know.

the dance music is loud. it’s that 80s remix of a次の歌. i don’t know the name. i asked a tourist and he said it’s called ‘The Time Machine’ but he was probably lying. he looked at me like i asked for a philosophy lecture. i heard that. a girl told me. she was eating ice cream. it was raining.

i left the place at 4 AM. the dancer was gone. again. maybe she’s a ghost. or maybe she’s just bad at showing up. i heard that. a drunk said it. over a bowl of salt and pepper.

someone told me that the city’s best coffee is at a place called ‘The Grind’ on a street that doesn’t exist on Google Maps. i tried to find it. i ended up in a dentist’s office. the receptionist said they don’t do drinks. i left. i almost cried.

i’m still here. in Hanoi. the humidity is still fighting me. the dancer might come back. or maybe i’ll just give up and go home. i don’t know. i heard that. a local told me. he was probably drunk. or maybe he was wise. who knows?

i should stop writing. it’s getting late. the coffee is cold. again. the city is still laughing. probably. i heard that. maybe.