I was stuck on a little plot point last night while I was at the Greenberry's write-in and luckily some of my twitter buddies came to my rescue. One (
@jonsinger) actually snuck into my novel. Here's his cameo appearance -- that might end up being more than a cameo. I quite like his character!
"Well, there is one possibility......."
"Out with it. We haven't got all night!" Warren demanded.
"Back in college, I know that Sanji took some Mandarin classes. I don't know how far he got though. His parents were pretty put off given the poor relationship between the Japanese and Chinese government. They actually moved out to California to try to resurrect Sanji's patriotism for Japan and to squelch his desire to take Mandarin. He had decided it would be a beneficial language for him to learn given the amount of contact that he could potentially have with Chinese manufacturers, computer parts and such, and the fact that he was completely obsessed with Dim Som. But I know that he took some... maybe he has had enough schooling that he could make out some of the date book?" Leonard was hesitant to involve Sanji and was in complete disbelief that he had even made the suggestion, he knew Warren wouldn't turn him down.
"Great! Get on it!" Warren snapped.
Kuba shook his head. "Leonard, there must be some other way," he whispered.
"I don't think there's another option... not without involving someone outside, and risking the entire operation."
Kuba just continued to shake his head. He took Torvalds out of his pocket and let him scamper about. Warren suddenly looked freaked out and and went dancing about as Torvalds ran around near his feet. It was just like Torvalds to find someone who couldn't stand him and then run around making him dance and loving every minute of torturing him. Leonard was just happy that Torvalds had found someone who hated him worse than Leonard did and now there was someone more fun to torture.
"Wah!! Get that... that... THING away from me!" Warren hollered at Kuba.
Kuba just laughed and clucked at Torvalds, dropping a trail of pine nuts behind him as he and Leonard went to the upstairs loft of OPL Headquarters where they had arranged a makeshift sleeping and living quarters. There were cots and some shelving that Leonard and Kuba had turned into their bunk area. The cots had been brought in by the same private moving company that had removed all the remaining stock from [insert warren's company here]. Yet another couple of hundred dollars had been passed between hands to ensrue that no one said a word about any potential living space being arranged without the proper permits and inspections.
#
Sanji had just sat down to dinner with his good friend Jon Singer when his blackberry started to buzz. Email again. He'd been getting quite a flurry of activity since the company had started it's move to [insert technical advancement of choice]. It had been keeping him after hours later and later, but tonight he decided he'd slip out for a quick bite of Dim Sum. He'd been keeping up with the outside world via TweetDeck, and was quite excited when his friend had messaged him asking if he had time for dinner.
#
Jon: @Sanjikanji Up for some Dim Sum?
Sanji: @jonsinger1 Sure - give me 45 minutes; meet you at Yum Cha Cafe?
Jon: Headed to Yum Cha Cafe with @sanjikanji - any other Dim Sum takers?
#
And with that dinner plans were made. Jon and Sanji were trying to avoid being shoved around like cattle in line waiting to order. They went to Yum Cha Cafe often and would do their best to avoid the crowds, but they were often drawn to the Dim Sum joint even at the worst times because the food was so cheap. Sanji always knew that he would have to run interference when he and Jon went because Jon was a dead ringer for Jason Scott Lee. Being so close to Hollywood, he was often mistaken and there were some young Asian girls who would hang off of him, squeal, and beg for his autograph. Jon loved it. He adored the attention, and in fact his uncanny physical likeness to Jason Scott Lee had caused him to take up kung-fu. He had lightning fast reflexes and really thought himself to be something of a ninja in disguise. Jon had every bit as much talent as Bruce Lee in the Martial Arts field. And while it was often Sanji who acted the part of the body guard since people thought Jon was Jason Scott Lee, it was clear who had the real talent.
Sanji pushed his way to the register to order. He had left Jon back in a crowd of squealing Asian women and girls. Just for kicks he yelled back behind him to Jon, "Don't worry...Jason, I got it!!!" He heard the girls squeal a little louder with the confirmation that they really were hanging onto the coat of Jason Scott Lee. He looked over his shoulder and saw Jon signing some autographs for his admiring fans.
The ritual that they were playing out at the Yum Cha Cafe happened on a regular basis, and Sanji was always thankful that the had learned Mandarin and Cantonese when he was studying in college. It made the process at the cash register go so much easier. Sanji watched the throngs of people ahead of him order with rudimentary jestures and grunts of affirmation as the Chinese women behind the counter removed the morsels of Dim Sum from their warming plates and frantically packaged up the meals for the customers. Sanji always felt like he entered his own little world when he actually communicated with these women. And while their gruff exterior was a bit of a turn off to some, he loved them. Sanji liked to believe that they actually appreciated his attempts to order in their native language.
"Hey! Sanj!! Don't forget the shrimp rice noodles!" Jon/Jason Scott Lee called out from the center of his admiring crowd. Sanji shook his head in amazement and laughed to himself. Meals with Jon were always an adventure. In fact, it was Jon who had introduced Sanji to dim sum and the Yum Cha Cafe.
"Shrimp cheong fun, char siu bao, 4 pieces, shrimp siu mai, 4 pieces, har gow, shrimp egg rolls, 2 pieces, taro and turnip cakes, 4 pieces, shrimp and pork dumplings, 4 pieces, please. Thank you. And how is your son doing?" Sanji asked in Cantonese to the woman behind the counter.
"Ah... he is much better, thank you." She said, bowing.
Sanji grabbed a number from the dispenser and headed out of the crowd to wait for their dim sum to be ready. The women, who's name escaped him, had been talking about how her young son was sick the last time that they were in for lunch. Sanji knew that that little personal comment would get them extra fresh, and an extra helping of shrimp rice noodles. Sanji continued to wait in the jostling crowd until he heard his number called out and went to collect their dim sum. Their order cost all of $9.00 and could have been enough food to feed himself, Jon, 3 Mary Kate Olsens, 2 chimpanzees and an little orphan boy from Ethiopia.
Sanji found Jon sitting at one of the tables outside. No doubt he had used his admiring public to commandeer on one of the only tables that was surrounding the Yum Cha Cafe.
"How'd you manage a table?" Sanji asked.
"What? You question my mad ninja skills? I'm hurt and offended, and I think that perhaps I'll keep all this dim sum to myself." Jon replied, hugging the tray of tasty morsels to his chest.
"You forget... mad ninja skills man who impersonates Jason Scott Lee, your favorite Mandarin / Cantonese speaking friend paid for the dim sum," Sanji said with a raised eyebrow as he pulled the tray back into the center of their table. Looking over his shoulder he noticed that there was a young Asian woman giggling and clutching an autograph book to her chest. "He's not signing autographs, he's eating... maybe later," Sanji said flatly shooing the poor girl away.
"Hey! That's my admiring public!" Jon said with a wink.
Both dove into the dim sum and ate as if it was their first meal after being rescued from a deserted island. About half way through the meal was when Sanji's blackberry went off.
"Aw man, don't answer it! I was gonna suggest we head over to the Hollywood Walk of Fame and see how many people we can trick while I cry over Bruce Lee's star!" Jon said.
Sanji shook his head and looked at the blackberry message. It was from Leonard; the last person on earth that Sanji was expecting to hear from. He hadn't heard from him after he'd snuck out of the reunion the morning he woke up and found either Kitty or Karen in his bed. Sanji hadn't had the heart to contact Leonard after all the whining and complaining he'd done over what seemed like the hundreds of vodka tonics they had that night.
"It's Leonard....." Sanji said, his voice trailing off as he read the message.
#
In, San Fran on business. Found this date planner in the taxi. Someone must have left it. I'd like to return it, but it's written in ASIAN -- can you take a crack?
#
Attached to the message were several pages that were all written in Mandarin. As Sanji perused the characters, he realized that whoever this date book belonged to was someone extremely important. There were quite a few highly swanky functions that the person was headed to over the next two weeks. Sanji couldn't understand why Leonard hadn't sent information from the front of the date book, where people often wrote their contact information, but then again maybe there wasn't any.
"What's your buddy want?" Jon asked, sucking down the last of the shrimp rice noodles.
"He's in San Francisco, on business... found some date book in the cab that he was taking and he wants to return it to its owner. Apparently, the whole thing is written in Mandarin. He wants me to translate it."
"Oh good... then we can go down to Grumman's and stir up some trouble among the tourists! Just what I love. Maybe I can bust out some of my ninja moves for good measure... what do you think?" Jon asked, but he noticed that Sanji was barely listeing. He was scribbling down what Jon assumed was the translated text of the date book on the paper that lined their dim sum tray. "Heelllooo?? Sanji???? Sanji Kanji!! Grumman's? Me? You? Trouble? What do you say??"
"Yeah... whatever.... Sounds great...." Sanji said still scribbling down the translations.
Jon shook his head and grabbed Sanji by the shoulder and drug him out of the crowded courtyard of San Gabriel Supermarket.
For @jonsinger - Thanks for the plot bunny!
According to NaNoWriMo founder, Chris Baty, only thing that you really must have in order to crank out a novel of your very own is a deadline.
In the spirit of NaNoWriMo, mine is 30 days - in November. Come with me on my journey. Jeer at me if I don't make my word count goals. I'll post it in all it's plotless glory here. The first draft.
And my novel had an inherently ridiculous title. It shall now and forever more (or until I change it) be called: 
