Mr. Wong’s Wild Ride

For our last night in Hong Kong we sought out authentic Hong Kong, we had sought out authentic hong kong earlier on Temple Street and got some very “ok” street food. We arrived in Mongkok, fresh off the bus and picked Wong’s.

Mr Wong was standing in his doorway and beckoned us to come in and sat us down excitedly and began to ask us where we were from, no, where were we from seriously, and then ignore our response and talk about Boston.

He asked us what we liked, and that didn’t matter much either, because he left before he got a response.

Three beers arrived on my table, and then three more.

He came to the table next to us with a laundry basket of beer.


He cussed a few times and looked at me, a bit ashamed.

“The men are talking.” He said.


“You work as an engineer?” He pointed to Steve despite me saying it. “I have to tell you something about AI”


“AI is in the future, you need to invest in AI, cut some of your money into AI, everyone thinks ‘oh Wong is at it again’ and don’t take my advice but Moscow, you know Moscow? Moscow, Russia. They have invested in AI, and China also, they have lots of AI.”

“AI is big in the US too.” I interjected.

“Good, you need to invest big, you need to go online and tell Trump, you have to tweet at him and tell him invest in AI. He’s an idiot, Russia, China, all have AI, US has nothing. Tell him right now.”

I was alarmed and glanced at my companion “Yeah, I mean, plenty of-”

“You should invest too! You will make lots of money if you invest in AI, many companies. Do you like whiskey?”


“I get you whiskey.”


5 minutes pass, and then ten. How much do we pay? Who do we pay? I eye Mrs. Wong who is engrossed in a game, and Mr. Wong who is now telling some other girl to invest in AI.

A woman comes out of the back, and then Mr. Wong leaves.

“We should go.” I said hurriedly “let’s just ask him how much and leave.”


Mr. Wong came back, and slammed a 750ml bottle of whiskey on the table and left.

He reappeared a few moments later with water cups, and filled them with whiskey, insisting we drink.

“I can’t possibly, you’re joining us right?”

He left.

Steve began to drink.


“How much?” I caught him on the offhand.


“and for the drinks?”

“Keep the bottle, it’s yours!” To demonstrate this he began to refill our cups, my eyes grew wide. “Drink more! Drink!”

I shoved double the amount he asked for and fled before he poured anything else into my glass.