Walking through San Francisco's Chinatown, a tourist from the Midwest was fascinated with all the Chinese restaurants, shops, signs, and banners. He turned a corner and saw a building with the sign "Moishe Plotnik's Chinese Laundry." "Moishe Plotnik?" he wondered. "How does that fit in Chinatown?" So he walked into the shop and saw a fairly standard looking Chinese laundry. He could see that the proprietors were clearly aware of the uniquenessof the name as there were baseball hats, T-shirts, and coffee mugs emblazoned with the logo "Moishe Plotnik's Chinese Laundry." There was also a fair selection of Chinatown souvenirs, indicating that the name alone had brought many tourists into the shop. 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 bowed and thanked him for his purchase. The tourist asked, "Can you tell me how this place got a name like Moishe Plotnik's Chinese Laundry? The old man answered, "Ahh... evelybody ask me that. It name of oh-nah." Looking around, the tourist asked, "Is he here now?" "He light heah," replied the old man. "He is me." "Really? But you're Chinese. How did you ever get a name like Moishe Plotnik?" "Is velly simple," said the old man. "Many, many years ago,when I coming to Amelika, I standing in line at Immiglashun Centah. Man in flont of me was Jewish man from Porand. Lady at counter look at him and say,'What your name?' He say, 'Moishe Plotnik.' Then she look at me and say, 'What your name?' I say, 'Sam Ting.' "