I land at Atlanta airport sometime in the late 1990s, coming in from New York. They had just opened their first Starbucks, and I was in need of some coffee. I think most of the staff were new or were in training.

Me: “Doppio Cap, please?”

Barista: “We have coffee and tea and food; we don’t sell caps.”

Me: “Cap – puccino. Sorry, it’s verbal shorthand we use up NYC way.”

Barista: “What size?”

Me: “Doppio.”

Barista: *Puzzled look.*

Me: “Dopio… double.”

Barista: “Two cappuccinos, then?”

Me: “No, one… Look, can I have a big ol’ cappuccino to go?”

Barista: “Sure thing. Right on it!”

For years after I just kept it simple and ordered a “Big Ol’ Latte” in barista shops around the world and it always took me back to that moment in the Atlanta airport, so it just became a private joke to myself. 

One day in the mid ‘noughties’ in a coffee place in Penang:

Me: “A big ol’ latte, please.”

The response from a Malaysian-looking individual is a drawled out:

Malaysian Barista: “Y’all want that hot or cold?”

The guy had a Malaysian mom and an Air Force guy for a dad and was raised in the Southern USA! I put a “cap” on my private joke ordering that day. I’d come full circle.

I’m playing a Dungeons & Dragons game with a bunch of my friends. For months, we had a Rogue who had insane luck with the dice. He always rolled exceptionally well. It was only a long time later that we found out that he was using sleight of hand to conceal a pair of loaded dice.

Rogue: “In my defence, I’m playing a master thief and assassin. I’ve stolen from banks, escaped from prisons, assassinated our foes, and infiltrated deep behind enemy lines. Using loaded dice in a game shouldn’t be surprising. If anything, it should be obvious.”

There’s a long pause.

Gamemaster: “Well, I can’t argue with that.”

Me: “Yeah, that’s actually a good point.”

Warrior: “All in favour?”

All were in favour.

In Buddhism, on the forty-ninth day after death, a person’s soul begins the cycle of reincarnation, and on the 100th, it is reborn into the world. As such, on my grandmother’s 100th day, the whole family gathers to perform the traditional rites.

We bring offerings of food and drink to the grave, light incense, say prayers, and burn paper money and ingots so that the deceased may have more wealth in their next life.

Me: “Why is there toothpaste and a toothbrush on the grave?”

Aunt: “Oh, it’s because last night, I had a dream about Grandma. She told me not to forget the toothpaste.”

Me: “…”

Aunt: “…”

Me: “Yeah, I can totally see her doing that.”

Aunt: “I know, right? She was even wagging her finger like she always does!”

I guess Grandma really didn’t want to have dentures again in her next life.

My paternal grandmother, God rest her soul, was a very traditional Chinese lady. She was super excited when Mom got pregnant with me. Not only was I the eldest son of her eldest son — which was already a big deal to her — I was slated to be born in the Year of the Dragon, which most East Asian cultures consider an auspicious year.

As such, my grandmother went out of her way to splurge and buy a lot of dragon jewellery for me, all made from solid gold.

But then, my expected due date came and passed. An entire week went by, and my Mom didn’t go into labour. The Year of the Dragon was fast ending, and the Year of the Snake was just two or three days away.

My grandmother promptly began panicking, very vocally, that all her dragon jewellery would go to waste.

Thankfully, on the twenty-third of January, 2001 — the very last day of the Year of the Dragon — I finally decided to come into the world, sparing my grandmother the need to redo the jewellery.

My mom has since joked that I’ve been oversleeping since the womb.

I was on a business trip to Kuala Lumpur, Malaysia, and one morning I was down in the hotel restaurant having breakfast. I was sitting at a table by myself when this group of four or five little old ladies came in and sat down nearby.

One of them came over to me and started asking me something, but she was speaking Chinese, which I don’t understand. She was gesturing at one of the chairs, so at first, I assumed she was asking if she could take it over to her table, and I tried to gesture back and say, “Please go ahead.”

But then she brought out her cell phone and started miming taking a photo, and I realized she must want me to take a picture of her and her friends!

I nodded yes and was about to get up and go over to their table when, suddenly, the lady handed her phone to her friend, pulled out a chair to sit down next to me, and started posing for the camera! And she and all her friends proceeded to take turns getting a photo with me. 

I was incredibly confused but just smiled and went along with it. Then they thanked me and went back to their table. 

I’ve never been told I look particularly like any celebrity, and I’m definitely not the kind of exotic “foreign”-looking white person that might get a lot of attention in Asia — I was certainly not the only non-Asian person in that hotel! — but I can only assume they must have mistaken me for… someone.

I definitely got a kick out of the thought that, for whatever reason, meeting me made these little old ladies’ day!