Memoirs of an Ice-Cream Lady (Part 30)
By Emily Ho
Editor’s Note: The author runs an ice-cream parlor on Hong Kong’s Lamma Island. When time allows, she draws caricatures and writes. The following are semi-autobiographical anecdotes blending fact and fiction.
Bombarded
“I told you not to run a business at the very beginning, didn’t I?” complained Emily’s mother.
“Now a year has passed. How much money did you make?” asked Emily’s sister.
“I don’t think you’re making any money, right?” inquired another sister.
“If you’d bought the shares I suggested, you wouldn’t have to work so hard – or even work at all,” Emily’s uncle told her.
“How many people live on Lamma? Who buys premium ice cream when other shops sell cheaper ice cream?” asked a friend.
“Ho-ye (Great)! I may win my wager on when Emily’s shop closes forever!” one colorful individual yelled.
“Based on your present financial situation, I’m sorry that our bank can’t loan you money,” a financial consultant said while checking data on her computer. “Maybe you can sell your flat in the New Territories, although it won’t bring in much being government-subsidized.”
“If you sell the flat, I’ll kill you!” shouted Emily’s deceased father.
Awakening in a cold sweat, Emily vividly recalled a just-finished nightmare scene in which her late father chased her with a knife.
Not Because It’s Easy, But Because It’s Hard
“Does anyone find English grammar difficult?” A teacher once asked his students this in a tiny language school, full of visitors like Emily and new or illegal immigrants, on New York’s 54th Street.
“Yea, I think very difficult,” a Mexican student replied.
“Me also!” a Chinese mainlander agreed.
“Emily, how about you?” the teacher asked. “Your English may be the best in the class.”
“Of course, I find it difficult too, but I like that it’s difficult,” Emily said confidently.
Within a few years, Emily came to realize that running an ice-cream shop was far more difficult than learning English grammar or even landing on the moon.
Lucky Stones
“Emily, let me show you some lucky stones. Honestly, they’re good for running a business, especially the yellow ones.”
A friend visiting from the city hastily opened a bag full of colorful stones while advising on how to improve Emily’s luck.
As usual, Emily replied politely, but firmly: “Thanks. You’re very kind. But instead I’d rather continue planning how to promote the products, even if such stones might work.”
“C’mon, I want to help you. I know the profit margin for ice cream is very low,” the friend insisted. She, too, was a business woman.
“Sorry, I really don’t want any stones. You know, I think that if I can survive running an ice-cream shop then I can run any business!” Emily said, confirming an idea.
Unlike most people eager to leave a poor business, the determined Emily decided to continue by devoting even more effort.
Taboos
Many Chinese shopkeepers may try to avoid poor sales by relying on “powerful” objects, maybe even on controversial taboos. For example, they won’t want to lend money or objects to anyone before achieving the day’s first business because that would cause poor sales for the rest of the day.
Meanwhile, potential customers should not browse in a shop without buying just after the business has opened for the day because that too will bring bad luck to the sales people. In such cases, they’ll shout “Wan Kut” (playing around) at the offending customer leaving the shop.
Coming Soon:
Deadly Disease Propels People to 'Quiet' Isle (more Memoirs of an Ice-Cream Lady)
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