“Rose, now that is a beautiful name.”

Hong Kong Do you know the scene in “You’ve Got Mail” in which Tom Hanks comes to Meg Ryan’s rescue in Zabar’s? If not, you should go back and watch it. It speaks to me on a fundamental level; man saves damsel in distress (in the grocery store who doesn’t have enough cash in the cash only line). What a great scene. I wish I could be like that, Tom Hanks’s character, that is, swooping in to sweet-talk Rose, the Zabar’s cashier, into “zipping” the credit card through the machine: “zip-zip.” Well, I’m less than impressed with my own dramatic performance tonight post-navigating the airport and successfully arriving at my hotel in a taxi cab speeding toward a language barrier. After I got settled in my room I thought it would be nice to run on the tredmill for a while to get the blood flowing from my 13 hours of being seated en route. I didn’t anticipate being hungry after my run but, lo, I was famished. The airborne delicacies I shoveled down my gullet simply didn’t stick to my bones.

But, with a stroke of luck (this is China, after all) I found a Park’n'Shop grocery store across from my hotel. Seeing as I don’t know the neighborhood and it’s after dark, I took the precaution of taking two bills of Hong Kong currency totaling HK$120 to be exact. What I failed to ponder deeply is that this amounts to, say US$15. I should have known this wouldn’t get me too far in a grocery store, but I wasn’t looking to be mugged (in one of the safer cities in the world, as it turns out.) I scoured the shelves for some familiar items not involving seafood and was pretty successful: oatmeal, apple juice in the little boxes you give kindergarteners, instant coffee (the appeal of which will be determined in the morning), and bottled water.

Items in hand I approached the checkout stand like a scared puppy; will the cashier speak English, did I add up the total bill in my head? Yes and no, respectively. The cashier and I touched upon the subject of bank cards, or was it a store membership card? Still fuzzy on that one; language barrier round two. Then she started scanning my items; $24, $50, $111, $124! Grave error. Let’s send back the apple juice (clearly not because I was too dumb to bring enough cash, but because the juice had added sugar). OK fine, I was a little too into the starving college kid role playing. Lesson learned: take sufficient cash…or a wallet…genius idea!

All is well that ends well, and by sending the apple juice back I had enough change to buy a plastic bag for 50 cents to carry my loot. I bid adieu to the cashier with a smile and an “I’m sorry [that I made a fool of myself and made you call the manager to OK the return...]” I wonder if I should ever show my face there again. Maybe they’ve even banned me from the store? Or just maybe I should go back and see if that cashier’s name is Rose.

“Rose, now that is a beautiful name.”