Notes » May 2007

Not Laughing Saved My Life

The First Class car on the KCR had only a few available seats.

I walked to the end and sat down in the left corner. Next to me was a Chinese man about my size. His wife sat opposite and his three kids were in seats across the aisle.

Besides his size, other features set him apart: he had close-cropped hair, a deep tan, and a fierce expression that reminded me of Kwan Yu.

He was brawny and wore camouflage pants with a tight black tee shirt. The pièce-de-résistance was the matching dragon tattoos adorning both forearms.

Overall he appeared to be a tough customer. In fact, with his dark skin he almost looked like a Samoan warrior: not a man you'd want to tangle with.

And then he hauled out a Chinese fan, shaded a pretty pastel pink with baby blue flowers, and began fanning himself.

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