Today's Reading

I didn't budge. "I didn't have a chance to say who I am yet," I said.

"Yes, you did," said Mr. Chiang. "Class, you can see why Jing-nan's business, Unknown Pleasures, is so highly rated by his customers? He works hard, believes in his business and his workers, and doesn't lose his cool when he stands up for himself. Also, I know that Jing-nan is accustomed to the American style of school, otherwise I never would have gone after him like this." He smiled at me. "Thank you for being a good sport, Jing-nan."

So the first-day scrutiny was just a game, a test, really, and I had passed. What a prick Mr. Chiang could be. I hoped that was the worst he had in store for me. I had passed that rough night, and I should have the leeway to cruise for a bit.

When class was over, my classmates and I waited for the elevators to come. Mei-hua approached me and said, "I can't believe what an asshole he was to you!" The other students gathered near me nodded. Now that Mr. Chiang was long gone, it was safe for them to show me support.

"He was," I said. "I've been kidnapped, I've been shot at, but tonight was a real ordeal. Well, he didn't take it easy on anybody... except maybe you, Mei-hua."

She stomped her right foot. "Shut up, I had to go first, and that sucked!"

Ming-shui, a tall, muscular guy who was considering graduate business school, had something to say about Mr. Chiang. "Let's jump that fool in the parking garage." He had the training to back up his talk. In telling his personal story, Ming-shui said he had a permanent tan from being stationed on an outlying island for his mandatory military service. It was the sort of assignment you got when your family had no connections.

"We'll never get promoted to the next class that way," I said. "Anyway, he's just testing us to see if we can tough our way through. The first day was the worst day. I think it all gets better from here."

I was fully confident that I could handle anything Mr. Chiang or anyone else could throw at me.


I got to Shilin Night Market around 9 P.M., and I still had a good three hours or so of work ahead of me.

I'll be honest. When I was first contemplating taking night classes, I worried that business at Unknown Pleasures would slip. I'm essentially the face of the business, both in person and online. Without me, there was at least a 20 percent drop in charm.

I made my way through the crowded walkways, passing by proprietors of lesser food stands yelling about how great their offerings were. As I drew closer to our stark exterior, it seemed that Unknown Pleasures was doing better business without me.

My girlfriend, Nancy, is on the taller side for a Taiwanese woman, and not frightfully thin like many of them. Her slightly oversized ears stuck out of the black curtain of her shoulder-length hair. Her face, neck, and arms were slick with sweat, giving her a sheen tinged slightly green from the lighting of the stall next door. Nancy looked a little like a sexy elf, and that was deceiving because she was a grad student at our top university, NTU, and a leading biomedical researcher.

So although Unknown Pleasures was 20 percent less charming without me, it was 100 percent more appealing to people into beautiful East Asian women.

Nancy wiped her forehead with the back of her left arm while waiting for an order from a white male tourist who was transfixed by her breasts. Apart from passively harassing my girlfriend, this guy was holding up the line. His beige hybrid shorts screamed "Costco!" so I pegged him as an American.

I drew up next to him and said in English, "Hey, man, those aren't on the menu."

Like most tourists, he was surprised to hear fluent English from a local. But he was also embarrassed, if not by my words, then by the laughter of the people behind him.

"I was... thinking about the barbecued pork skewers," he managed to say. Ah, one of the stupid safe choices for customers too squeamish to try things such as chicken butt and crispy intestines.

"Oh, miss?" I asked Nancy. Her mouth was twisted slightly with apprehension while her eyes twinkled with amusement. "This man would like eight pork skewers to go." I turned to the tourist. "Eight is a very auspicious number here because the word 'eight' sounds like 'luck.' It makes the most sense to order that many, believe me."

It was certainly more than the tourist would have ordered ordinarily, but he had a good shot at finishing them. They were the best pork skewers at the night market, after all. Nancy filled up two glassine bags and handed them over to the man. I slipped him two napkins.

He pulled the typical tourist move by leaving Nancy a tip. Some old-school people in Taiwan's service industry see gratuities as an insult. Of course I did a good job, they would think. Do you assume I'm usually incompetent?

I always take the money, and I always say, "Thank you."

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