The Wedding Banquet

It's been a long time since I last wrote...

but because of my shoulder...

I find it difficult to lift a pen.

So I recorded this cassette for you...

my son in America.

It will save you lots on phone bills, too.

My shoulder has been hurting

since menopause began.

They say after two more years,

it won't hurt anymore.

So, Pa has retired from the Army,

and now he's acting strange.

Before he was a general...

in charge of thousands of troops.

Now he's here at home...

commanding only me and old Chang...

and he's getting very cranky.

It's hard for him to run things.

Maybe it's because I'm getting old,

and he's getting older...

and you're not getting any younger yourself.

When will you marry?

You know, Pa came from China to Taiwan

by himself...

and you're his only precious son.

So don't be such a snob!

Last week we enrolled you

into Taipei's best singles club...

and they'll send you a computer form...

for you to describe your ideal woman.

All their girls have impeccable backgrounds.

They are well-educated, well brought up...

elegant and very attractive...

like Mrs. Quian's daughter,

the one you refused to marry.

Please, son. Don't be so choosy.

Relax. Stretch.

As a great Chinese poet once said:

What's that supposed to mean?

If you don't Zen out, you'll be murdered

by your physical therapist.

Simon, there's a call for you.

Hello.

If I give you $1,

will you stop playing for a minute?

- Simon?

- Yeah, where are you?

In the city. Come here and meet me.

I'll take you out to dinner.

You're still mad?

It's just we've been

planning this trip for months.

All you had to do was tell me.

But I can't control

when zoning boards meet.

We'll get time together, I promise.

Just come home tonight, okay?

We'll talk about it later.

Sure. I'm going by

the Williamsburg Building first.

I'll be home by 7:00.

Wai Tung! Wow! What a coincidence!

You live in Brooklyn?

No, in Manhattan.

What are you up to?

Last time I saw you

was before my operation.

They put 33 different wires,

but you can hardly notice...

only the skin graft.

Sorry, but I'm late. Call me sometime.

Yeah, let's get together.

Just like the old days.

You're eating too fast.

I'm nervous. If they let me convert

the Hudson building, I'll make millions.

If not, we couldn't even afford

a vacation in the Poconos.

What's the point of being able

to afford a vacation...

if you won't even take time off to have one?

Speaking of which,

Steve and Andrew just got back from Belize.

They hated the hotel.

Was that the one we were going to stay in?

So I guess it's great we didn't go.

Simon, I'm really sorry.

But I've made up my mind.

I'm taking you to Paris in September,

right after the zoning hearing.

It will be a birthday present.

You're such a jerk.

Hey, you homo!

What are you doing in this neighborhood?

Hello.

Don't joke about it.

You know the Witchells down the street?

Check them out.

Cute.

Do you and the mighty Wai want to go shoot

some hoops later, maybe around 2:00?

Wai has to run into Williamsburg

and deal with some tenant stuff.

I might be able to make it though.

- I'll call you.

- Just show up.

- See you.

- Bye.

If they're not off the sidewalk by 10:00,

I get a ticket.

- Sorry, boss.

- You're sorry?

Those tickets cost me $175.

If I get another one,

it's coming out of your salary.

Who is it?

The nasty landlord.

This floor has been liberated...

but since you're so handsome,

you may come in.

This is not rent.

Simon says these will be worth a lot

some day.

Simon is not the landlord,

and I don't know modern art.

But you like me. It's my fate.

I always fall for handsome gay men.

Bullshit! Don't try

to trade paintings for rent.

What a racket!

It's to block the noise. I can't concentrate.

- You like Taiwanese music?

- Anything to block the noise.

What's this painting called?

"Heat."

And if you shut it off, the whole building

will be without hot water.

Then don't touch it.

Can't you fix it? It's so hot in here.

How am I to live like this?

It's not a living space.

That's why the rent is so low.

I've tried it for a year. It's stuck.

What's this?

My depression special.

You're really that poor?

Just depressed.

Immigration showed up at work yesterday.

Luckily I got there late.

As usual.

Yes.

They got Emily.

If they get me,

I'll be meeting Emily in Shanghai.

Emily was my best friend.

Now I've lost my job and my friend.

I'm sorry.

You have no relatives here?

They sponsored me.

I can't trouble them again.

I'm not like you, rich...

American citizen.

I'm not as rich as you think.

All my money is stuck in here.

Then thanks for the extra investment

in my loft.

Actually, I kind of like this one.

It's pretty good. I'll take it as rent...

for the last two months also.

Thank you, Wai Tung.

Okay.

When will you fix the sink?

Say hi to Simon.

Simon's lucky to have

a handsome and rich boyfriend.

Ask him to get me one, too,

then I'll pay the rent.

My perfect woman.

What? Another one?

Don't those things cost a fortune?

Yes, but how can I tell them

to stop paying for them?

Why don't you just tell them?

Sh*t.

No, really, Wai.

Someday, I'm just going to call your father

and tell him myself.

I told mine.

Look at yourself. Your parents

send you a form in the mail...

and you practically pee your pants.

You are an adult. As a matter of fact,

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