Chinatown
Walking through Chinatown, a tourist is fascinated with all the Chinese restaurants, shops, signs and banners.
He turns a corner and sees a building with the sign, “Hans Olaffsen’s Laundry.”
“Hans Olaffsen?” he muses. “How the heck does that fit in here?”
So he walks into the shop and sees an old Chinese gentleman behind the counter.
The tourist asks, “How did this place get a name like Hans Olaffsen’s Laundry?”
The old man answers, “Is the name of the owner.”
The tourist asks, “Well, who and where is the owner?”
“Me, is right here,” replies the old man.
“You? How did you ever get a name like Hans Olaffsen?”
“Is simple,” says the old man. “Many, many years ago when came to this country, was standing in line at Documentation Center.
The front man was a big blonde Swede. Lady looks at him and goes, ‘What’s your name?’ He say, ‘Hans Olaffsen’.
Then she looked at me and said, ‘What’s your name?’
I say, Sem Ting.”
