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We entered the store located in the middle of Chinatown.  It used to be a magazine shop years ago.  I remember all the shelves lined with magazines.  I used to frequent this place when my parents brought my sister and I out to Chinatown to eat.  Now, it was a souvenir shop owned and run by an elderly couple.  A man stood outside and sang offbeat Christmas carols and his wife sat inside stooping over a book at the counter.       “How much are these?” Liz asks the merchant while pointing to minatures of an elder fisherman.       An old woman peers up from the counter and speaks in broken english, “Fi dollar.”       “How about three dollars?” Liz asks.  She looks to me and throws me a slight wink and a smile.       The woman thinks for a second, “Two for si dollar.”       Liz accepts the offer and the woman starts walking over toward us.  At that moment, Liz notices another set of miniatures and asks, “How much for these instead?”       Once again the woman responds, “Fi dollar.”       “How about four dollars?”       “Two for eight dollar.”              We walk out of the store with the second set of miniatures, a little less rich and a little bit happier..

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