Mehmet and Kong

Recently I've been hanging out with my neighbour, the Turkish Dane who owns the corner shop below our flat. His name is Mehmet and he's a handful of years older than me. I say hanging out, but the nature of my time in the shop is some what more beneficial. I usually stand and talk with Mehmet when I'm down buying milk or what ever and one day a few weeks back, he asked me if I wouldn't mind 'helping him out'. As a dedicated workophobe I was instantly on my guard, but it transpired, from his some what warped Danish that what he really wanted was some company. He said he needed some one to help 'top up the beers in the fridge' when the shop was busiest, so I said I'd do it.
It turned out that although the beers did need topping up (not exactly difficult), I'd guessed correctly and what Mehmet was really after was some company. We ate some Turkish pizza's. laughed at the drunks and laughed at each other for eyeing up the girls. Mostly we just talked about life in general.

I've done this a few times now, never with any obligation and always with a smile. Its not exactly a job so I don't feel obliged to do anything, but it is nice to help out, and Mehmet, who has some useful connections to the 'ethnic underground', is always interesting and always manages to get his hands on all manner of curious commodities. Amongst other things he recently gave me four kilo's of frozen chicken breasts he'd come by. When I asked him why he was giving these to me, he replied, 'because my own freezer is already full'. Fair enough. I never deny people the opportunity to be generous.

It turns out that one of Mehmet's contacts is a Chinese chef called Kong, and Kong often comes by on a Saturday, around closing time, and after Mehmet has closed the shop, they sit and talk, drink wine and smoke very strong cigarettes. Tonight I met Kong for the second time.

Kong seems like a nice person, but he is very different from the Danish and English people I normally hang around with. In fact, with his Chinese mannerisms and appalling bad Danish, he's almost like some character in a film. Today, I asked him how old he was.
"Ooooh, bad question!" he replied giving me the sort of side long look one might expect in a martial arts film. "Veeery bad question!"
"What do you mean?" I reply.
"Chinese people, never ask how old, or how are you?" he explains. Such questions appparently lead to bad luck because if the person you ask wishes to, they can make things very bad, for example, they might reply, 'I'm not well at all, I need 5,000 kroner to pay the rent, can you help me?"

Well.
Since I'm not Chinese, I fail to see why this is so bad since I would just reply; 'I don't have this money for you', but obviously its bad for Chinese people since any admission of age or poverty can be interpreted as weakness. Kong, being a nice sort, immediately forgives my Danish ignorance, then feels the need to maintain the equilibrium between us by giving me some small gift. Since I don't smoke or drink alcohol (both which Kong finds strange) he buys me some chocolate. Since we're in Mehments shop however he must buy this chocolate from Mehmet, and Mehmet refuses to sell him any chocolate at the correct price of 30 kroner.
"10 kr for you" he tells Kong.
"What? Why?" Kong is immediately suspicious "I have 16 kroner here in my hand."
Mehment is adamant and Kong tries to haggle upwards until he and I start laughing at the absurdity of haggling a price upwards from a man who is haggling his wares down in price. In the end, Mehmet sells Kong a bar of chocolate for ten kroner, and then Kong gives me the chocolate and shakes my hand. Equilibrium has been mantained and I feel like I'm in a Wayne Wang movie.

Ninety percent of Mehmet and Kongs conversation revolves around 'tak tak'.
In Danish 'tak' means 'thank you', but in Chinese slang, 'tak tak' means to fuck, and for Mehmet and Kong there is no better subject of conversation. From the moment the shop shuts at 11pm, they sit drinking and smoking their very strong cigarette's (I'm all but choking in the smoke), hatching one cunning scheme after another as to how they can find some willing females and get some 'tak tak'. Since both of them are married, and the plots they hatch are some what fanciful, I take it this is some kind of running joke. They even make contingency plans as to what they'll do in the eventuality that the women turn out to be men, or want money.
"I'll wink at you then pretend to go and buy some cigarettes and you climb out the back window" Mehmet tells Kong.
"What if they are men?" Kong shudders and we all laugh.
"I can tell" Mehment insists but Kong doesn't believe him. Its fairly obvious that Mehmet loves to tease Kong but I can't quite tell how much Kong understands.

I get a lot of odd looks when I'm in the shop. Some people seem to think its unusual to see me there and I assume this is because I'm Danish and Mehmet is Turkish. Most Danes don't react, though some of the immediate locals, all of whom know Mehmet by name, give me an odd look, but most Turks, seem to find my presence to be most baffling. Often they ask Mehmet in Turkish who I am and he replies in Danish, 'He is my neighbour'. I wonder if the rumour is going round about Mehmet and his Danish side kick but I don't really care. Mehmet is something close to a friend since I've known him for more than four years now and he's always been fun to talk to.