A Kiss From The Golden Buddha by M. J. Wolper (electric book reader TXT) 📖

My years passed by me with nothing to show for them. A slight amount of education no emotional entanglements and just enough lower level management jobs to make me sufficiently bitter. I would describe lower level management as a thankless job. All you are is upper management’s fall guy and your staff’s target. Early on my career went well enough but you get older and the jobs dry up. I was good but never good enough, nor was I lucky enough, good looking or cleaver enough to be a success.

So now I find myself piecing things together. Bit job here and there and living with relatives for little or no money. I would not be exaggerating if I said I am the least successful person I know. Nowadays I don’t get called for social engagements( no one wants to catch what I have). I end up spending my days wondering around or searching the Internet for free events. I try to spend as much time at free events.

So you will now understand how pleased I was to get called for jury duty (how they found me at my new location I don’t know). I could have a cheap Chinese lunch and maybe I’ll be called for a case. The instructions are always the same make sure you’re early and I always obey. Then all us obedient ones wait for the people who came late. Still I don’t care I found a Daily News and took out my glasses and read. As things turn out for me everyone else was called and the very few of us were let go.

Here I was in China Town just before lunch and all I could do is wonder around. So I wondered in and out of Chinese markets passed herb shops and nick knack shops. It almost seems like all the world’s junk was emptied out on these narrow streets. I then see a little shrine with incense and old folks sitting around. I remember a fun day once when I was younger going into such a shrine and giving money for a fortune. I walked in and took out a dollar and folded it into the offering box in front of a very rotund and happy Buddha. I then took a tiny scroll wished the Buddha well and went off to find lunch.

I found the dumpling restaurant I think I liked (I am never sure) and ordered a lunch special. I was surrounded by the toughest Chinese woman. They always look like they have seen it all. I always enjoy seeing what they order and how they throw themselves into their meal. The woman are throwing pieces of duck bone on their table and spitting out tiny bits of bone.

After I enjoyed my lunch I remembered my fortune from the Buddha so I took it out and unrolled it. The fortune went like this. “You have received a kiss from the Golden Buddha” What? I read it again and again. I can’t tell you how disappointed I was. I was expecting a fortune cookie saying like “ A calm sea does not make a good captain” or “You will find a great love” Not you just got a kiss from a Buddha. I didn’t even try to roll the fortune back up I just shoved it in my pocket.


But then something did happen. I don’t know what it was but people looked at me differently. My server treated me nicer. I got three fortune cookies instead of one and the old ladies smiled at me. Ok I said to myself this is strange. As I walked down the streets of China town everyone I met smiled at me. I went into Little Italy and the same thing happened there too. I stopped to look into my favorite Italian cheese shop and saw my reflection. It was I but NOT. I looked better I was the same but I looked better. Now I was curious. What is this? I must be in a good mood. All those self-help people always say it has to come from within. So that’s what I thought about this vision.

So I walk and walk and people try to engage me in conversations. I can’t even stop and admire street a vendor’s wares with out them trying to talk to me. At first I am alarmed but then I start to relax into this temporary social success. I end up having conversations with artists, students, teachers, chefs, writers, drunks and criminals. I had a great time. I then felt so good I stopped for a coffee. I walk in said “hello” and was given my coffee and biscotti to boot. Now I’m almost in a dream. I know I will wake up. Strange as it seems I don’t really care.

After my coffee I walk and walk and found myself at Union Square. The farmers market was in full swing and everyone in the world was wondering around. The center park almost seems like an afterthought for years I would avoid walking through it. The park was a desolate place where mostly men lived and seemed to be waiting for their time to end. People either drunk or in drugged out stupors hung out. Today was different I walked in and sat down. Young people sat around eating and drinking and the homeless sat near by.

The world is ending I say to myself it’s always been like that. The weather changes the earth spins in space and we are here. I am deep in thought when someone sits next to me. As I am a New Yorker I arrange myself away from my new neighbor. “No” the person says to me breaking through my cloudy reverie “No why are you doing that?” I look to see a youngish man of indeterminate race. But like most city dwellers I can usually tell a person’s class or social economic background. However I am not the same person I was even an hour ago so I only care if the young man is drunk, drugged or loony. As it seems he is quite sober I become very curious about this man. I turn to him as if to say please explain which he does right away. “Everyone is moving away from each other” he says I nod my head to agree.” I can’t stand this no more” he says I nod again. My new friend looks me right in the eyes and says “Why?” This simple question makes me think a bit. “Most likely fear” I say as I say this I think of myself and all the years I wasted. Then he says, “What’s so scary?” “The unknown “ I say “What that mean?” He says. This I realize is a very profound question and I look at my new friend with renewed respect.
“You know when you were a kid and a stranger sits next to you on the bus?” “Don’t you remember feeling really uncomfortable?” “You see it now sometimes when you are sitting and a mother tries to get their kid to take the seat next to you.” ‘ The poor kid acts like your some strange thing.” “Sometimes you see it when you smile at a baby and they start to cry.” “ What he’s saying is your not my mommy or daddy.” “ It’s that basic.” “You grow up but always have that in you not just for strange people but situations and places as well.”

Now my new friend looks down as if deep in thought but I think he just has no idea what to say. But in true style he comes back at me with something more profound. “ yeh that’s simple but nothing would ever get done then” “Well there are some brave people” I say. This just makes him look at me harder. “Is that you?” he says. “No I’m the scared
kid “and laugh. Now he laughs too and says “Yeh that’s right own it”

Now both of us are sitting uncomfortably in silence I am guessing because we have nothing more to say. I want to stand up and leave but feel it would be rude. Almost as if he hears my thoughts he says “ You want to leave?” This question would have made me very uneasy on any other day but I feel different somehow and just say. “ I couldn’t think of anything else to say” Then he laughed louder than ever. “Not talking all the time scares you too?” Then he stands up and says “OK I’m going” “You a funny guy” “It was nice meeting you” I say. I don’t know how but I could sense he didn’t believe me. The sad part was that it really was nice to meet him and that I could see his feelings have been hurt many times.

I feel disoriented but stand up and start walking anyway. As I start pushing through the crowds of the farmers market I started to go over this statement in my head (you don’t get what you want or what you need just what is left.) The song played in my mind and now my addition made me more observant of my fellow market attendees. Indeed everyone was pushing each other aside to grab that last bunch of organic flowers or jar of honey.

I was standing still in the center of this storm and then I hear a familiar voice. “You didn’t get far” I turned to see my new friend. I looked at him and said, “My name is Anthony what is yours?” “Carlos” he said without missing a beat. “Why you still hear?” he said. “I am thinking about where to go for dinner” just to say something. “You don’t know do you?” His bluntness is a relief to me and I say a fast “ you might be right” This seems to make Carlos happy. “ I got a job I got to look into you can come along” “It’s not far and then we can go for drinks” Even though I know Carlos for such a short period of time he started to sound like someone I knew much better. “ Ok” I hear myself say.

Carlos is leading the way though the crowds like he’s leading an expedition to find the source of the Nile. I follow after him like I need his guidance through a strange exotic land. Only now do I look closely at what Carlos is wearing. I think it was because he said it was a job interview we were heading towards. He was wearing baggy jeans a long sleeve t-shirt with an almost dress shirt over it he is wearing a faux leather jacket that was way too big and I could now see he was older than I first thought.