Walking through San Francisco's Chinatown, a tourist from the Midwest was enjoying the artistry of all the Chinese restaurants, shops, signs and banners . . .
. . . when he turned a corner and saw a building with the sign "Moishe Plotnik's Laundry."
"Moishe Plotnik?" he wondered. "How does that belong in Chinatown?"
He walked into the shop and saw a fairly standard-looking drycleaner, although he could see that the proprietors were clearly aware of the uniqueness of the store name as there were baseball hats, T-shirts, and coffee mugs emblazoned with the logo "Moishe Plotnik's Chinese Laundry." The tourist selected a coffee cup as a conversation piece to take back to his office. Behind the counter was a smiling old Chinese gentleman who thanked him for his purchase.
The tourist asked, "Can you explain how this place got a name like 'Moishe Plotnik's Laundry'?"
The old man answered, "Ah . . ., evleebody ask me dat. It name of owner."
Looking around, the tourist asked, "Is he here now?"
"It me; me him!" replied the old man.
"Really? You're Chinese. How did you ever get a Jewish name like Moishe Plotnik?"
"It simple," said the old man. "Many, many year ago I come to thes country. I standing in line at 'Documentation Center of Immiglation.' Man in front of me was Jewish man from Poland.
Lady at counter look at him and say to him, 'What your name?' He say to her, 'Moishe Plotnik.'
Then she look at me and say, 'What your name?'
'Sam Ting.'"
