Chapter 6 Racist white people
Tommy sat in the driver's seat and didn't rush to start the car. Instead, he rubbed his face first, then lit a cigarette and lost his mind.
Honestly speaking, for now, he doesn’t have any means to make a lot of money.
The idea of selling doctor’s certificates and prescription drugs was all due to economic pressure. He came up with it based on the memory of his previous life. It can make some small money, and it will not violate the US law in the strict sense.
This is due to the unlucky girlfriend in his previous life who insisted on pulling him shopping and getting him shot. She had a grandfather who came to study in Boston from the South Bay in 1974. The old guy used to brag to him many times about his childhood The experience of earning the first pot of gold when coming to the United States.
Now Tommy can only hope that most of the bragging of the old guy is true, and his hope of earning a little money to support his family depends on him.
After reminiscing about it, Tommy started the car and went along the interstate highway to Boston, the largest city in New England.
Boston is not too far from Providence, only 100 kilometers. At 10:30 in the morning, Tommy has already arrived in Chinatown in the center of Boston, but compared to the quaintness of the previous life, Boston in 1982 Chinatown looks like an old, dilapidated urban village.
The surrounding British traditional buildings that have been preserved for hundreds of years and are regularly and properly maintained, so that even after a hundred years, they still do not lose their elegance, are in stark contrast to this dilapidated Chinatown. The Chinese or Asian gatherings derived from the radiation of Chinatown, Dirty and messy, the walls are covered with advertising paper or graffiti, and Asian faces are walking on the street in a hurry.
The car found a parking space and stopped. Tommy looked around the familiar and unfamiliar surroundings, feeling a little emotional.
Although the streets are a bit dilapidated and messy, the large number of Asian faces and the familiar Chinese around him gave Tommy a sense of intimacy, but every time he wanted to get closer and hear the words of the pedestrians or shop owners clearly, the boss or Pedestrians would stop talking quickly, put on a modest smile, bow slightly to him, look anxiously, and ask in English:
"Sir, do you need me, a Chinese, to help you?"
Tommy can understand the reason why Chinese or Asians quickly express their nationality when they see themselves as white people. They are worried that they will make trouble for them, beat them in the street, and even kill them brutally.
Nowadays, many American blue-collar workers or low-level white people are in a state of extreme hatred of Asians. To be precise, they hate RB people, but they cannot distinguish the difference in appearance of Asians.
The outbreak of RB's economy seized the business of Americans. A large number of RB cars landed in the United States. American auto companies cut their production lines one after another. A few months ago, a group of Detroit auto workers beat a Chinese worker to death simply because they mistook him for RB.
Even after the murderers learned that they had hit the wrong person, they did not repent. When facing the reporter, they even joked that the poor person should be blamed for being too much like a RB person, so he could go to the imitation show.
As for the penalty? The leaders were sentenced to probation and fined 3,000 U.S. dollars, and the other workers involved had no effect.
Even the $3,000 fine was paid by the labor union and the car company, and the murderer was not allowed to pay.
It was as if Tommy’s part-time Chinese laundry was smashed by his father yesterday afternoon, and the local union even secretly contributed to it, hoping to set off a storm.
This of course fueled the arrogance of American white blue-collars against Asians. Immediately in Boston, Detroit, Cleveland and other cities, restaurants owned by RB people were smashed, and RB cars were smashed. The phenomenon of Vietnamese and Filipino being beaten by white people.
Nowadays, Asians in Boston are nervous when they see white people appearing. They quickly reveal their identities and draw a clear line with RB people. Even some RB people will call themselves Chinese or Vietnamese when they encounter trouble, so as to avoid being beaten, and refuse to pretend to be Korean. The only stubbornness of RB people.
Tommy didn’t walk into Chinatown with the inscription “The world is for the public”, but went to an English-style building next to the street, where there was a bilingual signboard: Chinatown Asian Medical Center.
This is his destination in Boston.
Pushing open the door of the medical center, the front desk medical assistant who looked like a Korean woman was sitting on the seat and flipping through the newspaper. When he looked up and saw a white man walking in, he stood up and smiled:
"Sir, is there anything I can do for you?"
"Dr. Chen Furen, I want to see him, I want to ask him to help me check my condition." Tommy walked to the stage with a straight face, put his hands on the stage to increase his momentum, and said in a bad tone.
The woman was stunned for a moment. She didn't expect a young white man to come to the Asian Medical Center to see a doctor. She was a little confused and wanted to explain: "Are you here for a doctor? Sir, this is for Asians..."
"So, I have encountered racial discrimination in a medical center in the United States? Miss, are you discriminated against whites? You can’t get a diagnosis and treatment here even if you die of illness? Do you want me, a white man, to teach you what is racism!” Tommy’s eyes were fierce, imitating the vulgar tone of an Irish alcoholic, and using a string of swear words with extremely high F content questioned.
The woman waved her hands again and again, and hurriedly defended in a tone that was about to cry: "No! No! Of course not, sir. I'm just a routine... OK, I'll help you contact Dr. Chen."
The woman picked up the phone at the front desk, dialed a number, explained the situation very quickly, then smiled at Tommy, signaled him to follow her, and took Tommy to an office on the second floor of the medical center.
Tommy breathed a sigh of relief when he saw the Chinese doctor waiting at the door. Although the doctor was only 27 or 28 years old, he could vaguely recognize the face of the doctor, which belonged to the grandfather of his girlfriend in the previous life.
"Sir, please come in." Chen Furen led Tommy into his office, then sent the front desk to leave, and closed the office door.
Waiting for Tommy to sit down, Chen Furen asked with a smile: "Sir, what can I do for you?"
Tommy took out the paper full of information from his jacket pocket, and handed it to Chen Furen: "Doctor, I want twenty medical certificates."
Chen Furen just took the paper, before he could open it, his hands trembled when he heard Tommy's words, and the paper fell on the table, he looked at Tommy with a trembling tone: "Sir, what are you talking about... "
"Listen, Asian guy, I know that the most profitable business of this Asian medical center is to help those rich Asian international students issue medical certificates on behalf of them, so that they have enough vacation to go to New York, and San Francisco is rich, you sell them, Fifteen to thirty dollars a piece, and I'm only going to pay you five dollars each." Tommy Hawk narrowed his eyes slightly, and said in a slow tone.
Chen Furen picked up the piece of paper in surprise, and looked at Tommy with a rather embarrassed expression. He opened his mouth several times to speak, but was worried that he would be retaliated by the other party after rejecting the tall white man in front of him.
"Or, I call the police, and then countless rich Asian students are dealt with by their universities, and I promise to let them know that the reason they were punished by the school is simply because you didn't issue me 20 medical certificates. " Tommy Hawke said indifferently: "I think those international students with the same skin color as you will line up to greet you, very, very kind."
Chen Furen's forehead was already sweating, he pulled a paper towel to wipe it off, then knocked **** the table, cursing in Chinese:
"Damn it! I told you to keep it secret, don't let this kind of thing get to the white people's ears!"
(end of this chapter)