My dad and I were in China Town walking around. Dad needed a little water so we stopped into a random grocery shop.
"How much for a water?" asks my dad.
"5 dolla," answers the lady.
Now, obviously my dad knows this is overpriced, but he's dying of thirst so he pulls out the cash.
As he does so, the ladies begin speaking to one another in Cantonese, straight-faced and monotone -- as is oft the case when they're talking trash. Of course they wouldn't expect that my dad -- light-haired and fair skinned -- speaks fluent Cantonese.
So, when he hears one of them say: "This stupid American is actually going to give me $5 for a bottle of water," he responds in Cantonese, "How much do you usually charge?"
They laugh in embarrassment and give him the water bottle for free.
Yesterday I went to get my eyebrows waxed. While I was there, I decided to get a pedicure. I was sitting right next to someone else who was getting a pedicure so our two ladies were speaking to one another throughout in some Chinese dialect. If what my lady said to me was in any way a reflection of their conversation, I imagine their conversation broached the following topics:
Try to upsell her. She's a dumb, rich American.
[Upselling then ensued. I fell for it, opting for the "mosturizing pomegranate" pedicure, which was no more than some salty stuff slabbed on my legs and rubbed around. In my defense, the girl next to me had a much better lady who was massaging every little individual toe. That's what I thought I was getting sold on.]
Ha! She fell for that. Now offer her the 10-minute massage.
[Offering of the 10-minute massage took place. I declined. The girl next to me fell for it]
Your girl has hairy ass legs.
[I really do. I told D that I can tell how long he's been away by the length of hair on my legs. He thought I was kidding. I wasn't. Anyway, I told the lady I was going to go home to shave before the pedicure and she insisted I stay now. She wanted to lock this deal down, baby! Big bucks!]
Offer her the 10-minute massage again. This time employ the sullen puppy-dog look.
[Again I declined. Chinese puppy dogs aren't my cup-o-tea. Plus, if my "leg massage" was any indication of what the 10-minute massage was like, I was out.]
These ladies were of a very non-discreet breed. I have to give some credit to my dad's ladies. If he didn't speak Cantonese, we would have had no idea they were talkin' shit. As for mine, they were basically pointing at my legs, laughing, and talking shit. Very subtle, ladies. I'm sure I'll be back.
Stuff like this makes me kind of wonder about those Chinese symbols people get tattooed on their backs. I imagine that they don't really say "Tranquility," "Strength," or "Independent." Probably something more along the lines of "This dumb American thinks this symbol means 'Tranquility,' 'Strength,' or 'Independent.'"
Chinese Women Talk A Lot of Trash