"You'll need to have good mathematical skills for this job—but you're oriental, so you should have no problem with that."
I bit my lower lip. The first interviewer chortled. The second one, standing somewhere behind me, joined in. He slapped my shoulder.
The perfect woman for me is a sheep.
Astrologically speaking, that is.
According to the Chinese astrological calendar I saw in King Sun Kitchen, the perfect mate for a rabbit is a sheep.
The Cantonese-speaking lady blurted out a line of made-up syllables; imitating the taunts she must have heard as she worked in this Chinese restaurant.
The young African-American boy must have been only in elementary school. There's one right down the street from this restaurant. He wore a dark down jacket and a bright yellow school bag with a patch from the Wu-Tang Clan displayed proudly on the back.
He laughed. "Yea, I can speak Chinese too! Nay ho ma? Nay ho ma?"
Weekly random rambles, musings & writings of Mike Lee in San Francisco, CA