Ep. 6
Joe had run the All-Nite Chineze Buffet for the last 20 years. He bought it from some weird guy who had opened it at least 30 years before that. He didn’t know if he was Chinese, Japanese, or some other ‘nese’, but his accent never senses seemed to stay the same. Joe himself was an average white male. No accent, no Asian culture. Just a guy with a culinary background who wanted to buy something to settle down with.
After running and opening restaurants in multiple states and a few countries, he ended up coming to The Town a few years ago. He was supposed to be going to a food convention in the city, but there were no openings in the hotels near the convention center. Not being one to back down from the adventure, he flew out and rented a car. Every place he had ever visited, there was always a motel off the interstate that didn’t advertise but always had a vacancy.
He headed out of the city in search of such a location and found himself lost in the process. He was about to give up when The Hotel came into view, looming over the trees like a dark citadel, watching out for the random lost traveler, or to warn of the evils in the shadows. No matter what it did, it was just what he was trying to find, he thought. Pulling into the lot, and driving by the Buffet, he caught a whiff of teriyaki and fried wontons, his favorite. He walked into The Hotel, dragging a beaten and worn piece of luggage behind him. At the front desk, a man was reading a book. Joe walked up to the counter and let his bag rest against the side of the desk. That piece was one of a set he bought 5 years ago, to hold the clothes he took when he packed his stuff and said goodbye to his wife one last time. The wheels barely spun, and he had to reinforce the bottom to survive being dragged across hundreds of airports and hotel lobbies.
The man lifted his head, looking at him with one eye. The other eye never lost focus on the book in his lap. It was both disturbing and intriguing at the same time. The name plate on the desk stated simply- Night Manager. Joe laughed to himself. Usually, the client wants to be anonymous, not the staff.
“Hi,” Joe said, “I would like a room please.”
The Night Manager’s good eye arched an eyebrow, then looked around the room. Even without reading minds, it was obvious that he was telling Joe that it was rather clear what he wanted. He slid across a ledger, then pointed to the sign on the desk that gave the room rates for by the day, the week, the month, and one that said “Legacy-NO VACANCY”.
Joe picked up the pen and started to write down his name, “I will take one for the week. Conference in the city. I won’t be here long.” He heard a snort but was busy concentrating on the ledger. There were other lines of writing on the page, but it felt like every time he tried to read them, the letters slipped out of focus. When he was finished filling out the entry, he set the pen down. As soon as he did, his own name and information blurred out of view. This place is fucking freaky, he thought, sliding over his card. The night manager shook his head, pointing to the sign next to the fee schedule “CASH ONLY”. Glad he never went anywhere without cash, he peeled off two hundred-dollar bills, and slid them over.
“I have to find an ATM for the rest.”
The Night Manager reached below the counter and produced a well-worn take-out menu for the All-Nite Chineze Buffet that he passed on the way in. On the front page, along with the hours, it said in bold letters:
NO FEE ATM ON PREMISES FOR PAYING CUSTOMERS ONLY
Joe nodded. He was hungry anyway. “I hope they have enough cash for what I will need.”
The Night Manager shrugged, turning back to his book. Joe had never had such a vocal conversation with a man of no words before, but he knew when he was dismissed.
Heading down to the Buffet, Joe was amazed at the size of the place. Most of the similar places he had ever been to were the size of a normal restaurant. This one, however, was twice the size, with a parking lot to rival the one for The Hotel.
He walked inside and was instantly hit with a cacophony of smells. Soy sauce, ginger, garlic, and other more exotic spices. It was even more appetizing than the smells from outside. At the front, a small, Asian-looking man smiled up at him. It was a friendly and disarming smile, with the feeling that it would not change if he was serving you or killing you.
“You want buffet?” The accent was thick. Just as you would expect in a place like this. But it felt off. That seemed to be a common theme for the area, Joe thought.
“Yes, but I need money for a room at The Hotel as well. Can your ATM handle enough for a week?”
“Ah, yes it can, my friend,” the host replied. “We can handle withdrawals of nearly any amount. As long as you are eating here, of course.” The wink was so over the top, Joe could not help from chuckling.
“You got a problem, ‘friend’?” The accent was nearly gone, and the smile was much less disarming.
“Me? Hell no, but please, the Chinese Place accent is way too much. Who are you trying to impress?” Joe had dealt with more scary people than him. It was not easy to get him worried.
“Listen, you walk into a place like this, no one will trust it being authentic if there is a guy up front who has no accent. That is the way things are.”
Joe frowned. The forced smile was not for any reason other than a man who was tired of having to play a part. This gave him a thought. “Hey, you sound like you need a break, and I need a hobby. What do you want for this place?” Even Joe was a little surprised at his own words. He had only planned to offer to work a few shifts to get free food for the week.
“What do you mean, what do I want for the place?” The host frowned at him, “If you are trying to mess with me, then you can just go screw off and find somewhere else to eat.”
Joe was still shocked at the idea. He had cooked a lot of different foods, but this was not one of them. As he stood there, the idea became less crazy, and more exciting. He needed a challenge in his life, and this might be it.
“Here’s my offer,” he said, “If I like what the food tastes like, I will give you a fair price.” Joe knew he had enough from the settlement to cover whatever the guy wanted. He pulled out a business card and wrote a number on it. “If I am happy, I will give you this for it. I just will have to contact my bank to get the funds wired to you and a lawyer to draw up the contract.”
“It’s a deal,” the host said, shaking Joe’s hand. Joe didn’t even realize he had stuck it out until the other man had taken it. “No lawyer needed,” the man continued, “I own this outright. You can use the ATM if you want,” the smile returned. “But first, go eat. I guarantee you will find all your favorites here.”
Joe went to the buffet line and lifted the lid off the first pan. It was the teriyaki chicken that he first smelled when he pulled in. The next pan held the most perfect looking wontons that he had ever seen. Each lid he lifted revealed dishes he had not thought of in years, but they brought back memories of the good times. It was a shame his wife would never be able to join him here. She would have loved it.
He sat down to eat and looked around the room. There were businessmen from all levels of commerce. Locals in jeans, dusty travelers like himself, and a few teens on a cheap date with their girlfriend or boyfriend. Every plate held different items from the others. Joe glanced at the size of the buffet. It was not that large to fit all the dishes, and the covered pans emerged from the kitchen at a fast enough pace that it would be impossible to cook so many dishes. What the hell is going on here? And what the hell did I just buy myself into? Joe was finally starting to feel fear. Not of the host, but the enormity of the business model.
He finished his third plate. Not a single item repeated, even though he went to the same pan four times. Every dish was amazing and unlike any place he had ever eaten at. The host came over and sat down next to him, the faintest of grins showing on his face.
“You like? You talk money now?” There was no hint that he was worried Joe didn’t like his meal.
Joe knew he had made the agreement, and it was too late to back out now. “Are you sure the machine will take the transaction?”
“Oh yes. It handles much of the trade in Town. It is like our bank,” he said. The accent had completely faded by now, being replaced by more of a southern drawl. Joe wasn’t sure, but it looked like the weight of the world had been lifted from the man’s shoulders. He even seemed to sit a little taller.
Joe pulled out his card as the host slid the check over to him. The price Joe had written down was there, with the cost of the meal deducted from it. It simply said, “All Nite Chineze Buffet with all property and business interests connected” He looked up at the man, about to open his mouth.
“Call it a grand opening gift, bud,” the man said as he walked to the machine. Sliding the card in, he punched a few numbers, then a few buttons. Seconds later, a receipt was printed and a stack of crisp bills slid out from the slot. Joe felt a shiver pass over him, like he made the the best bad decision in his life. The man returned and set down the bills. They were all hundreds, but several were strange. One said, “Confederate States”. It did not look like anything he had seen before.
“I should warn you,” the man interjected. “It will dispense some bills in what we call ‘local currency’. You will know when to use it when you are in the proper situation. Save them wisely.” With that, the man handed Joe a key and, without another word, left the business. Joe could not put his finger on it, but he could swear the guy looked less of an Asian caricature with every step.
Joe shook off the memory as a customer walked through the front doors. He was odd looking. Like he was on a business trip that no one wants to know about.
“Hi! You want Buffet?” Joe cringed inside every time he heard his voice. Buying a restaurant was one thing, buying a new image was different.
The man looked at him. Joe felt the man could see past the image of a short, middle-aged Asian man, straight to the 50ish white man hidden beneath. Without any hint of emotion, he asked, “Where can I get directions to The Gilded Unicorn?”
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