Cheapskate in Love Read Online Free PDF Page B

other infrequently, usually only when they met for an occasional
weekday lunch. Bill demanded that it always be an inexpensive lunch. Stan
wasn’t so picky.
    Inside the cafeteria, each picked up a tray and waited in
line to be served. Stan did not have to insist much for Bill to go ahead of
him. The thought of a five-dollar lunch filled Bill with excitement, and he was
eager to get his food. When it was Bill’s turn to select from the buffet
choices, he pointed to a pan of food on the steamer and asked the Chinese
immigrant behind the counter serving, “What’s that?”
    She replied with a heavy accent, dropping a syllable, “ Shiken brokli .”
    “What?” Bill asked louder, confusion taking over his face.
He wasn’t prepared to comprehend someone who spoke poor English. His attention
was focused on getting his money’s worth.
    “ Shiken brokli ,”
she repeated, in the exact same tone and volume.
    “What did she say?” Bill asked Stan. “Do you understand
her?”
    “Chicken and broccoli,” Stan said, in the even voice of an
executive accustomed to delivering news without any commentary or explanation.
His face remained impassive as a corporate logo.
    “Oh,” Bill said. Pointing at other pans on the steamer, he
asked the server, “What’s that and that and that? Are they hot? MA LA TONGUE? I want MA LA TONGUE.” Linda had taught him the
Chinese words for hot, spicy soup, when she was in a good mood one day, and he
used the term mistakenly for any spicy food.
    Ignoring his questions, the server put a portion of the
three dishes he pointed at onto his place, next to a mound of rice. “Mala tang”
she said, correcting his pronunciation. “ Seese dallas .”
    Bill understood the last part of what she said perfectly
well. “Six dollars,” he nearly shouted. “The lunch special is five dollars. The
sign outside says five dollars.” Bill gestured repeatedly toward the door and
drew the shape of the sign with his two hands in the air. He then counted on
his fingers for all to see. “One, two, three, four, five. Five dollars. Not six
dollars.” He kept shaking his head no.
    The server thought to herself that capitalists are just like
communists, and people like Bill would be properly disposed of in jail if they
were in China, but she only said, “All meat. Seese dallas .”
    “No, no, no,” Bill said, raising his voice. “The sign says
five dollars. Five dollars.”
    Before East-West tensions could rise any higher, Stan
intervened. “She’s right. Five dollars is for two vegetables and a meat dish,
and you have three meat dishes. I can pay for you. It hardly costs anything.”
    “No,” Bill said, still huffy that he was denied the special
price. “I’ll buy my own. She never told me what they were. She never said they
would cost more. All she said was ma la tongue.”
    “Mala tang,” the server corrected him loudly, daring to show
the glimmer of a smile. “ Seese dallas pleese .”
    Flustered, Bill searched for his wallet, which was in his
briefcase.
    “Do you want a drink?” Stan asked him.
    “I brought a bottle of water in my briefcase,” Bill replied.
Stan was surprised enough to raise his eyebrows. He knew Bill was a tightwad,
but it was a slight shock to see that he might be becoming a miser, someone who
wouldn’t even spend money on a drink. Bill finally found his wallet and
grudgingly paid the server six dollars. To her cheery “Tank you,” he nodded his
head in assent, although his face was dark and gloomy.
    While Stan paid for his lunch special and drink, Bill waited
with his tray, looking for an empty table.
    “Let’s sit there,” he said to Stan, pointing to empty seats
on the far side of the crowded dining area. On the way to the table, Bill
accidentally hit a few customers with his briefcase, which was hanging over his
shoulder, because of the lack of space in which to navigate. “Sorry,” he said.
“I’m sorry. Excuse me.” Bill left a path of discontent behind him,