The Beauty of Humanity Movement (12 page)

While such thoughts might fly around like a Ping-Pong ball inside T
s head, none of his clients would ever suspect it. T
works hard to impress them with his good nature and exemplary customer service, and is ever-ready with his New Dawn smile.

Today’s Canadians are from Quebec, the first French Canadians T
has ever met. “We too were colonized by the French, as I am sure you are aware,” he said when he met them in the lobby yesterday, attempting to establish some common bond.

Their reaction had caused T
to spend most of last night in an Internet café. Today he hopes to redeem himself with sensitive insights
into their unique history and culture. He will need to, because Ph
ng, green with hangover, does not look like he will be of any particular help.

T
is indebted to his friend for changing his life, and he considers Ph
ng a brother. He envies him like a brother too. Ph
ng is taller and leaner, but it’s not T
s fault he inherited his father’s slightly bowed legs. The baggy jeans fortunately help disguise this. And at least both his eyes are real; there is no danger of inheriting his father’s glass eye. T
doesn’t have nearly as white a smile as Ph
ng’s, his upper teeth having been stained from taking antibiotics when he was a kid, but again—not his fault. And his hands? A little small, but surely more than made up for by the size and enthusiasm of his penis, as his future wife will discover.

Currently there are no candidates for that job. An introduction through family is always best, and even if Ph
ng prefers random girls for himself, as T
s honorary older brother, he introduces him to girls from time to time.