My Chinese Eyes

Before I go to sleep last night, I go to the corner store to buy a bottle of water. As usual, when Chinese people with poor English accents try to talk to me in English, I tell them in Chinese, "Excuse me, I don't understand English." The laoban (shop owner) is trying to tell me how much my water costs. We start talking in Chinese and he thinks my Chinese is pretty good. He guesses I like Chinese culture. "I do, I do," I respond.

"Are you Chinese?" he asks, making me think he must have had one too many Tsing Tao beers with dinner. "Well, look at my face," I say. He says, "Perhaps you are of mixed Chinese blood." Of course, I am smiling. "Yeah," he says, "I can see it in your eyes."

"Well, maybe in a past life," I say. "A hundred years ago, two hundred, three hundred?" he asks. "I don't know," I say.

"If you have time during your stay, come by and talk," he says as I leave.

I go back to my hotel, have a drink of my water, and get ready for bed, but not without checking out my Chinese eyes in the mirror.