People call me a frying man because I fry dumplings all day long from 7 to 10 pm. Sure, I sometimes get glances of pity from passersby but I don’t mind as long as the frying draws their attention — a tactic I’ve learnt over the years — luring kids, ladies and grandmas into the store. The sizzling and wafting of the dumplings over the faces of such diversity.
You might disagree with me but I can’t complain. I have the best job in the world. I am just hoping my wife will see the things I see now someday. Now she is going on about how I am always frying things; she may be thinking I might fry her someday in a huge frying pan or maybe a pot or fetter her in a crate. Is it a possibility? I don’t know. But tempting indeed.
People don’t appreciate the simplicity of life. Frying for me is the simplest job you can do for the rest of your life. You wake up thinking about what frying pans you will be rocking for the day and looking forwards to greeting the regulars every morning on their commute. Of course, the experience is not always positive: they can be mean patronizing with the face of arrogance. But if they like my fried stuff, I don’t mind it at all.
On last Friday evening, I recall a man standing out front of the shop. And I was, as always, frying the stuff. He gave me a long uncomfortable gaze as if he’d never seen fried dumplings. We exchanged a few awkward glances in silence trying not to cross our eyes in the air.
“How much is this?” He asked with an accent. A foreigner I thought, “3 rmb for one.”
Then his stare continued at the dumplings bubbling in heat. My hands kept moving and stirring around in the boiling oil, tapping here and there for perfect browning, another tactic I had learnt to trigger appetite. It’s just a normal procedure in the world of frying dumplings. I picked up the tapping, stirring and our gazes met in the midway.
“I”ll take a piece,” he said with the subtle hint of hesitation.
“好的! 马上.”
I could tell his mouth watering as he’s watching my hand scooping up the golden dumpling out of the pot.
“谢谢”
”Come again!”