didn’t smell so strongly of all those things myself.
“That’s it, you lousy Han Chinese people,” Dwayne grunted with pleasure. “We’re taking revenge for all the years that you people have mistreated our tribes.”
“We gave you the Great Warmth a few years ago,” I said, referring to the stimulus bill that targeted disadvantaged populations, including those of aboriginal descent. I struggled to find the weak spot in Dwayne’s grip.
“You gave us the Great Warmth of your farts,” spat Dwayne.
Frankie the Cat sat on a plastic stool, put his back against a wall and lit up a cigarette.
“The English, Dutch and Japanese murdered you off, too,” I said dryly.
“We’ll get to them soon enough, you dirty Han! It’s only because your parents were kind to me that I will spare your life and also the life of one potential mate. Now pick one!”
“So we’re going to play this game again, huh?”
“Hey, how about Dancing Jenny? I know you think of her when you beat off!”
“Yeah, but I haven’t since last week.”
“What about her?” Dwayne still had me swaddled in his grip. He turned my entire body and pointed my face at a woman in a low-cut dress sucking on a frozen melon pop.
“She’s not quite my type.”
“Don’t tell me her tits aren’t your type!”
“I look for many things in a woman, not just her body parts.”
“I think you like her,” growled Dwayne. While trying to keep a firm hold of my waist, he worked his hands down my stomach to my crotch. “I’m going to check if your dick’s hard.”
He was trying to do too much at once. This was my chance.
I turned to my side and dug into his chest with my right elbow until he had to let go.
“I’m going to put a skewer in my boxers so the next time you reach in for my cock you’ll shish kabob your fingers!” I told Dwayne.
“Your thing’s so small, it’s already a skewer!” We clasped right hands and Dwayne cradled my head with his left hand. “I’ll make you a warrior yet!” he told me.
Frankie dropped his cigarette and clapped his hands. “C’mon, boys!” he yelled. “Customers!”
C ROWDS BEGAN TO TAIL off shortly after one in the morning, and market stalls began to close around one thirty. Sometimes it’s later, sometimes it’s earlier. A few savvy people rushed around to get great last-second deals at stands. To the south, on the other side of the night market, the secondary stalls opened up in the little lanes between Dadong Road and Wenlin Road. This is where the people who work at the Shilin Night Market come to relax after a long night, eat soup noodles and omelets, chew betel nut and play mahjongg. If you are a tourist, do not go to the aftermarket. Non-vendors are not welcome. After all, this is their safe space, where they can stretch and complain about people like you, in addition to life in general. I didn’t go there, either. For one thing, I didn’t want to hang out any longer than I had to at the market.
I was cleaning the counters when Dancing Jenny stopped by. All she had to do to close was roll down her metal gates and padlockthem. She was now wearing a blue linen blouse and matching skirt that went past her knees.
“Jing-nan,” she said, “I’m going to Cixian Temple. Do you want to come?”
The temple was less than two blocks away. Supposedly the night market grew out of stands that sold snacks to worshippers more than a century ago.
“I’m not going, Jenny. You know I don’t believe in that stuff.”
“I don’t really believe, either, but why take a chance?”
“He’s taking a chance going the other way,” said Dwayne. “I’ll see you there, Jenny.”
“Don’t take too long,” she told him before turning back to me. “It will just take a minute, Jing-nan. Just light some incense. That’s all.”
“I’m not going.”
“Even if you don’t believe, your ancestors did, so do it for them.”
“I’m already running this stand for them. Jenny, please. Don’t
“That’s it, you lousy Han Chinese people,” Dwayne grunted with pleasure. “We’re taking revenge for all the years that you people have mistreated our tribes.”
“We gave you the Great Warmth a few years ago,” I said, referring to the stimulus bill that targeted disadvantaged populations, including those of aboriginal descent. I struggled to find the weak spot in Dwayne’s grip.
“You gave us the Great Warmth of your farts,” spat Dwayne.
Frankie the Cat sat on a plastic stool, put his back against a wall and lit up a cigarette.
“The English, Dutch and Japanese murdered you off, too,” I said dryly.
“We’ll get to them soon enough, you dirty Han! It’s only because your parents were kind to me that I will spare your life and also the life of one potential mate. Now pick one!”
“So we’re going to play this game again, huh?”
“Hey, how about Dancing Jenny? I know you think of her when you beat off!”
“Yeah, but I haven’t since last week.”
“What about her?” Dwayne still had me swaddled in his grip. He turned my entire body and pointed my face at a woman in a low-cut dress sucking on a frozen melon pop.
“She’s not quite my type.”
“Don’t tell me her tits aren’t your type!”
“I look for many things in a woman, not just her body parts.”
“I think you like her,” growled Dwayne. While trying to keep a firm hold of my waist, he worked his hands down my stomach to my crotch. “I’m going to check if your dick’s hard.”
He was trying to do too much at once. This was my chance.
I turned to my side and dug into his chest with my right elbow until he had to let go.
“I’m going to put a skewer in my boxers so the next time you reach in for my cock you’ll shish kabob your fingers!” I told Dwayne.
“Your thing’s so small, it’s already a skewer!” We clasped right hands and Dwayne cradled my head with his left hand. “I’ll make you a warrior yet!” he told me.
Frankie dropped his cigarette and clapped his hands. “C’mon, boys!” he yelled. “Customers!”
C ROWDS BEGAN TO TAIL off shortly after one in the morning, and market stalls began to close around one thirty. Sometimes it’s later, sometimes it’s earlier. A few savvy people rushed around to get great last-second deals at stands. To the south, on the other side of the night market, the secondary stalls opened up in the little lanes between Dadong Road and Wenlin Road. This is where the people who work at the Shilin Night Market come to relax after a long night, eat soup noodles and omelets, chew betel nut and play mahjongg. If you are a tourist, do not go to the aftermarket. Non-vendors are not welcome. After all, this is their safe space, where they can stretch and complain about people like you, in addition to life in general. I didn’t go there, either. For one thing, I didn’t want to hang out any longer than I had to at the market.
I was cleaning the counters when Dancing Jenny stopped by. All she had to do to close was roll down her metal gates and padlockthem. She was now wearing a blue linen blouse and matching skirt that went past her knees.
“Jing-nan,” she said, “I’m going to Cixian Temple. Do you want to come?”
The temple was less than two blocks away. Supposedly the night market grew out of stands that sold snacks to worshippers more than a century ago.
“I’m not going, Jenny. You know I don’t believe in that stuff.”
“I don’t really believe, either, but why take a chance?”
“He’s taking a chance going the other way,” said Dwayne. “I’ll see you there, Jenny.”
“Don’t take too long,” she told him before turning back to me. “It will just take a minute, Jing-nan. Just light some incense. That’s all.”
“I’m not going.”
“Even if you don’t believe, your ancestors did, so do it for them.”
“I’m already running this stand for them. Jenny, please. Don’t
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