The Dim Sum Drama (Flash Fiction Part 3)

This is the 3rd part of the story. The previous parts are here: 1, 2.

“Can you believe what he did to me a week ago? He tried to force me to do takeout while I wanted to eat in the restaurant.” I tell Pammy, Jen, and Dodo. Four of us are sitting at the outdoor table of the Korean Cafe right next to H Mart. It’s a Sunday and the weather is so sunny, bright, windless, and warm. It’s the kind of weather that makes you feel that staying indoors is a punishment. We sent out husbands and children and in-laws (who come to take care the kids for a while) to a local park for some exercises so that we can have some valuable girl-talk together.

After I relate my encounter with Lau, the “dim sum Nazi”, my friends say in unison that he finally got to me since everyone of them had at least one unpleasant episode with Lau. Pammy was being yelled at when she tried to feed a dim sum dish to her dog in her car; Jen was being rudely treated when she went there too often with her kid without her husband–he was doing a two-months project on the West Coast; Dodo actually had a quarrel with Lau several months ago. What happened was that Dodo and her coworker–both women–went to Bamboo Palace for lunch. They didn’t order dim sum that day, but instead ordered two dishes: beef with green pepper, and seafood-egg stir fry. When the two dishes were delivered to their table, somehow they felt that their portions were smaller than usual. Looking at the table next to them, they saw a man ordering the same two dishes. He was alone. And the portions of his two dishes are so much bigger than theirs. The entries of the two tables, being the same, must have been cooked together before separated into different plates for different tables. And the favoritism toward this guy is just too conspicuous to be ignored.

Dodo protested to the waiter, who immediately retreated to the kitchen. Dodo stood up, went to the kitchen to continue her protest. She was stopped by Lau before she could reach the kitchen.

“He is my old old patron for more than ten years.” Lau said.

“What does that supposed to mean? I am your old old patron for more than ten years too. Actually both my coworker and I are old old patrons here for many many years.” Dodo said.

“He is almost like family and he has gone through a lot in life. Have some sympathy, will you? He deserves to eat more so that he can have the strength to fight life’s battles.” Lau said, dismissing Dodo with a wave of his hand.

“You are taking food from us to feed him. This is very unfair. And my co-worker and I have gone through a lot too in life. I am sure we are as deserving as him for bigger portions. We fight life’s battles on many fronts, most likely fighting more than he does.” Dodo said very loudly.

“Why do you want to eat so much? You need to take care of your figure.” One waiter came up to help defend Lau, with a little jeering smile on his face.

“Listen, I work double shifts every day and I need to eat twice as much as a man. I am not interested in starving myself to please you, OK? I want the exact same portions as he has got right now, and I want to grow as fat as possible to please myself.” Dodo said.

The two sides came to an impasse. Lau refused to make up for the differences; Dodo refused to back down. Since Dodo was terribly hungry, she had to sit down and eat her lunch. When the two women finished, they threw enough cash on the table to pay for one entry only, and left.

The four women remember their tiff with Lau, and their reminiscences animate the conversation. The weather is so good that they just want to continue to sit there outside of the cafe.

“Pammy, how are you doing today?” A booming voice suddenly comes up and a tall figure emerges right next to Pammy.

“Babutai, how are you today? Would you like to join us?” Pammy says. Babutai immediately pulls over an empty chair and joins the four women.

Babutai claims that his grandfather was the 3rd cousin of the last Manchurian emperor. He also claims that his wife could still be a Manchurian princess if the Manchus had not lost the sea battles with the Japanese or the British more than 100 years ago. It is a strange thing that people don’t believe Babutai’s claims, but people love to listen to his stories about his royal pedigree. The more outrageous his stories are, the more excited his audience becomes.

Everybody else in the Asian immigrant community is overworked on his job, over-worried about his mortgage, over-scheduled with his time, but Babutai and his wife–I don’t even know her name since we all call her Princess–don’t even work and have no worries. They have a house with a paid-up mortgage. Every day, they spend time enjoying themselves. Both like to chat, to tell outdated jokes, to recount royal anecdotes (either fake or real), to attend parties, to show up in restaurants. Pammy, as a real estate agent, helped them to find a place for their relatives a while ago. Thus Pammy is on more familiar terms with them.

“What are you ladies talking about?” Babutai asks.

“About Lau, the owner of Bamboo Palace.” Pammy replies.

“He is a bad tempered morality police, isn’t he? And he has a reason for that. Do you know?” Babutai asks.

We all shake our head and Babutai continues, “Eight years ago, Lau ran away one night with a woman customer who came late to have dinner alone. Lau started to talk with her. One thing led to another. The next thing you know, he and the woman drove down to Atlantic City to gamble. One week later, he came back. The woman disappeared and Lau gambled away all the money he could get his hands on. This is why ever since then, he has been extremely disciplined and he has frowned upon every tiny little infraction of moral standard.”

“No wonder.” I say, “now I understand him better.”

“And do you know what is happening now in Bamboo Palace? You don’t know? How can you not know? I thought everybody knows. Something outrageous happened yesterday in Bamboo Palace.” Babutai says.

“We don’t know. Please tell us. Babutai, you know everybody and everything around here. Tell us.”

(To Be Continued Here)