Sweet and Sour Porky

I was a little late as I walked into the meeting, already in progress. I got the “look” from my colleague Linda, as if to say that I am never on time. Today in the spirit of outsourcing each and every American job that we possibly could, we were meeting with a Chinese company seeking business in the good ol’ US of A.

I mean why not, we don’t need the jobs here, we are America, and nothing will bring us to our knees with our great leaders behind the wheel. I sat down and quickly began jotting down nothing trying to look as if I were really interested. Before us were 4 Chinese guys, one of which was giving a presentation of their company. It all looked real nice in the presentation, but in reality they probably had a warehouse with dirt floors, kids working and slaving for twenty five cents a week so that we can go buy a Sixty Dollar shirt. The guy giving the presentation was obviously the “piss boy” of the bunch. He was short and had a set of teeth on him that looked like he had been gnawing on a steering wheel for some years. He was the kiss ass for sure.

Aren’t Chinese guys all bi? Don’t they swing both ways? Maybe I was thinking about the Thai dudes. My mind was wandering and my attention span, as usual was short.
I was becoming bored and fighting off the “sleep monster”. I kept nodding my head as if to acknowledge him and his crappy presentation, where in reality I was nodding to stay awake. He finished his speech and sat back down. What appeared to be the main guy, the “Chink in Charge” I thought, began speaking.

OK, now I was wide awake.

As the China dude or “Chink in Charge” began going into how he and his company could provide such a great service, I couldn’t believe what I was witnessing. The guy with his broken English also had a definate stutter. Was this possible? I never heard of or imagined an Asian guy stuttering. I looked around the table to see if anyone else was in as much awe as I was. My eyes met Elizabeth’s and she gave me a look as if to say “Don’t you dare”! I turned back to CIC (yes, chink in charge. I am not racist, I hate everyone equally) and he must of noticed my intense curiosity. The more I stared at him the more pronounced his stutter became. I saw sweat begin forming on his brow. He was now having a difficult time getting through a complete sentence. It was like watching a Chinese “Porky Pig” get through “That’s all folks”. CIC’s partners must have sensed something was wrong. They began whispering to one another in their language and looked worried, like maybe CIC would have a nervous break down or something. I think that CIC meant to or was trying to say “Leveraging” but it came out as R-R-Reverchiny or something and I lost it. I was not quick enough. I had already gotten up trying to hold it back, trying to make it to the door and out into the hallway. Instead, there I stood busting up laughing, tears coming from my eyes. CIC began trying his best to cuss me out but all I heard was “No r-r-r-raugh at me, m-m-m-is-t-t-ter.
I explained to my manager who was trying to keep a straight face himself, that there was no way I could give the guy an apology in person with out cracking up once again. Instead I typed out an official apology letter to him and his company and told them I looked forward to doing business with them.