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The group seemed to agree and while they finished their drinks Carl pulled a thin book from his pack and walked up to the bookshelves. Kane couldn’t see what book he took but noted that the book he left was a free guide to tourist attractions in Xi’an that was available at most of the upscale hotels.

They paid the bill without question even though Kane had doubled the prices from those on the menu. He’d figured they wouldn’t notice.

They got up and left the room saying pointless goodbyes to the first group who brightened up as they left.

“What a fucking jerk.” Chris was the first to speak. “That’s why I hate my country. People like him. My country is full of people like him. Maybe the reason the Chinese limit visa’s to 30 days is because they don’t like assholes sticking around too long,” the whole group broke up in laughter.

Kane opened a beer and sat down in the seat Carl had left at their table. “I see a lot of people like them in here.”

“Too bad for you,” Johnny told him. “Did you guys catch that bit about America having to deal with Chinese peasants? What fucking arrogance. It’s American pricks like that who come to Europe thinking they can see the whole culture in two weeks. No offense mate,” he motioned to Chris,” but I hate bloody Americans.”

“Me, too,” Chris seemed gloomier than before. “Did you hear him? Asking questions just so he could tell us about his $100 grand a year job, his high rent, and his $45 5-star hotel room.”

Keith laughed. “Stupid ass. He could get an even better room for half that if he stayed in a Chinese hotel instead of the Hilton. Hey Kane, how much is a Heineken normally here?”

It was Kane’s turn to laugh. He hadn’t known they had noticed his price gouging. “25 yuan. I’d like to buy you guys a round of Singhas for not giving me away.” They all laughed in appreciation, accepted the beers, and then drifted out by themselves and in pairs.

It was only then that Kane looked to see what book Carl had taken. The Let’s Go was gone. That was a $20 book. The son of a bitch had left a free tourist guide and taken Kane’s only current customer reference book.

Kane was going to get it back. He put the free book in his pocket, locked up the café and hailed a cab, directing the driver to take him to the Hilton.

He looked in the lounge first. A couple of the MBA’s were sitting at the bar, but Carl had already left.

“Excuse me,” he asked the girl who missed her parents. “Do you know what room Carl is in? He left something in my restaurant.”

“Oh, you’re the guy from earlier… yeah, Carl is in room 425. It’s so nice of you to come down here to give him what he forgot. Chinese people are so sweet.” She was drunk, her eyes glazed over in that ‘I’m either going to pass out or throw up’ way.

Kane used the house phone to call Carl’s room. “Hello?” He sounded as if he was already sleeping.

“Hi, this is Kane from the café earlier. You left something at my place earlier and I’ve brought it back to you.”

“What are you talking about?” Carl’s voice sounded nervous. “I have everything. It must belong to someone else.”

“Yes, but you also took something of mine and I want it back.”

“What are you talking about? I didn’t take anything from you.” Anger was starting to mix with the nervousness. “That sign said one book for another book. I only traded books.”

“You took a book that wasn’t there to be traded and left me a free tourist guide. I want my book back.” Kane didn’t have to be the polite host anymore. “If you don’t want to bring it to me, I will be up to your room with the police in a few minutes.”

“You can’t do that. I’m American, that sign said one book for one book. You made the deal. I know my rights.”

Kane laughed, “Your rights? Your American rights? You’re in China, you have no rights except the right to bring my book down to the lounge or the right to go to jail for being a thief. It’s a crime to steal here. I’m pretty sure it’s a crime to steal in your country too. Bring my book to me.”

There was a pause on the other end of the line. “I’m going to call the American Embassy tomorrow and report this. Now go home before you get in trouble.”

“You don’t seem to understand,” Kane said, “America has no authority here. This is China. I am Chinese. You have my book and I want you to return it…now.”

Another pause. “I’ll bring it down in a minute…just hold on. It’s just a book.”

Kane hung up the phone. The girl next to him tapped his shoulder.

“I’m sure he didn’t mean to steal it, I mean he’s a jerk, but he’s not a thief. He’s rich, why should he steal anything from you? I’m sure it was an accident. “She hiccuped and reached for a Marlboro from her pack on the bar. “You want a cigarette?”

“No, I don’t smoke.” He did, but he wasn’t in the mood to accept anything from these people.

It was only a few minutes before Carl came down. His North Face fleece over his bare white chest.

“Here’s your book…” he slammed it on the counter and turned to leave.

“Wait…” Kane picked up his book and held out the tourist guide.

“Maybe the reason us third world peasants limit you to a 30-day visa is because you rich Americans are a bunch of assholes.”

He didn’t wait for a reply but turned and walked outside where a taxi was waiting to take him back to his café.

This is the whole gang from our side at Genghis Kane’s Cafe. The next day we all bought souvenir tourist yellow hats and went to see the famous tombs of Xian and the Terra Cotta Warriors. From Top left to right — Sasha, Chris (Vago), Jane, Kay, Johnny, and Keith. No MBA’s were hurt in the shooting of this picture.

A Walk in the Park

“Chris… economically, the world has to work on separate monetary systems. If England becomes a part of the Euro, it will lead to an eventual one world currency which will definitely be worth less than either the pound or the dollar are today…”

“I agree Johnny, the one thing that will lock the world into disaster is to have all the economies tied so tightly together that when one has a problem, they all suffer decline…”

It’s no easy thing solving the problems of the world, but that’s what Johnny and I were doing…at least in our own minds.We were sitting at a table in a Chinese tea house tossing high-minded ideas back and forth.

Occasionally, the ear cleaning man would come close to us and strike his ear pick with a tiny hammer making a high pitched vibrating sound, then catching our attention he would indicate that he would like to clean our ears. Perhaps he was aware that we were not listening to each other, just waiting for a new pause to pontificate.

The ear cleaner had a proud manner that denied the scruffiness of his shoes and clothing. The blooming plum and cherry blossoms which carpeted the peoples park made his office an elegant place. The two of us were polite in our refusals to have our ears cleaned at first, but as the cleaner became more insistent, we became more and more rude.

Perhaps his command of English was strong enough to understand the boorishness of our conversation and he could not understand how two men with good hearing could engage in such snobbery- or maybe he simply saw us as rich potential clients. Either way his golden tools came more and more frequently and finally his dark hands grabbed Johnny’s shoulders and began to massage even as the Englishman was beginning a diatribe against the economics of Adam Smith and the fallacy of a free market economy.