Shlemiel, shlamazel. Everybody in this life eventually is one or the other. Some get stuck in just the dumper (asshole) role; some in the dumpee (victim) position.
A funny thing about the current Prime Minister of Japan. His name is Aso. When you speak that in Japanese, there's a hint of an "l" at the end. So, quite naturally, I wonder if he truly is a shlemiel; probably so, since he's a politician, after all.
Today, I accompanied my special friend on a house-hunting expedition, our first. Her instincts are to buy while the prices are low, which is precisely why immigrants always do well here in America.
She doesn't have much money but she recognizes that the time to buy is now, when abandoned and repossessed houses are flooding the market, even here in San Francisco.
The places we toured were four small units in the Mission, not far from my flat. The biggest, which was tiny, is going for $388k; the next two, which are microscopic, are listed at $288k; the smallest, which is a large closet, looks like something from Goldilocks & the Three Bears. It goes for $168k.
Why so many "8"s in the list prices? You probably can guess. Because that is the luckiest number for Chinese, 300 of whom are poised to visit in a few weeks, when they will no doubt sweep up properties such as these ones.
As I see these new neighbors on the street, I can practice, "Nee how ma!"
with just the right tonalities.
Such is life during a recession here in Fantasyland. Out with burritos and in with dumplings.
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