Last year, I discovered that some people actually buy their own paper napkins at stores like Albertsons.

I was floored — why not just snag a whole bunch from McDonalds, along with salt and pepper packets, ketchup, and honey mustard sauce? Buying napkins seemed like such a waste of money for someone who’d grown up with a mom from Hong Kong. Honestly, for the first 24 years of my life, I only ever used napkins with logos from such Asian Mother Free Goods Emporiums (Emporia?) like McDonalds, Burger King, and Arby’s. Pizza Hut, which has less selection, but more rare items (like red pepper flakes and parmesan cheese) is also up there on the list of suppliers. All this to say, the idea of buying napkins or condiments is seriously foreign to me.

Asian mothers love to get free things. It doesn’t matter if it’s something she will actually use (and rinse out and reuse, as is the case with the sturdier napkins that you can snag from Souplantation, which is another Asian favorite because of the “free” muffins you can take home in the giant Asian Mom Purse), or something that will stay stashed in a drawer forever, she will take it home if it’s not secured to an immovable object and doesn’t have a clearly labeled price. Ah, but it’s not possible, you say, that an upstanding member of the model minority is such a hoarder and shoplifter! I beg to differ; just take a look around my parents’ home, and you will find plenty of evidence of pathological kleptomania.

If you look in the hall closet at home, you will find many shoeboxes full of the following:

1) Free socks (way too thick and in an unattractive greige* color) and eyemasks (who actually uses these once they get off the plane?) from Cathay Pacific

2) Free shampoos, conditioners, body lotions, soaps, combs, toothbrushes, shower caps, lint mitts, and dry-cleaning bags from hotels

3) Free cheap toothbrushes (that aren’t fancy enough to actually use to brush teeth with) and sample size toothpastes (in brands/flavors we don’t like) from dentist visits

4) Free perfume, lotion, and make-up samples from walking past cosmetics stores in the mall

I realized that we, as a family, had a problem when I looked in the closet and found some items from hotels we went to when I was five. In order to make myself feel better, I donated items from categories #1-3 to the SF Rescue Mission, where hopefully someone can use the orange-ginger aromatherapy body gel that my mom deems too smelly to use herself. I have not been able to do anything about category #4.

Moving on to the kitchen, we find:

5) One drawer devoted to paper napkins from various dining establishments (usually ones with good deals like the aforementioned Souplantation, or Arby’s, where the 5 for $5 Junior Roast Beef Sandwiches was a staple of our summer lunches), along with the little handwipes you get from KFC

6) One drawer full of condiments, including and not limited to: salt, pepper, sugar, splenda, ketchup, mustard, honey mustard, sweet and sour sauce, horseradish sauce, tartar sauce, mayonnaise, parmesan cheese, red pepper flakes, soy sauce, grape jam, orange marmalade, syrup, and strawberry preserves

7) A cabinet of those little honey pots and ketchup and mustard containers and mini Tabasco sauce bottles that you get with room service in hotels

A section of another drawer with things that are not quite free because you had to buy the thing it came with, but at least you’ll never have to pay to buy your own: e.g. twist ties from bread and rolls, rubberbands from the newspaper, and pretty string from bakeries when you get a cake

I’ll confess that I find most of the above pretty useful, with the exception of maybe the strawberry preserves. Those things are just nasty. But alas, fast food restaurants have caught on to people like my mom, and they now hide sauces behind the counter and you have to actually go up to them and ask for it, instead of surreptitiously walking by and grabbing some from the counter. That is, you’re embarrassedly surreptitious if you’ve been sent by your parents, but blatantly bold if you’re actually the Asian mom.

[Side note: One of the most horrifyingly bold snags I've ever seen was at an outdoor Chinese wedding -- some grandma walked up the parents' table during the dancing, grabbed the centerpiece (a pretty glass bowl with shiny rocks and floating candles in it), poured the water out on the lawn, and STUFFED THE ENTIRE THING INTO HER PURSE, all without batting an eye.]

The Asian mom penchant for collecting free things (because you never know when you might need it!) extends to really good deals, too. You know, the ones that are so good it’s like getting something for free. Sometimes, just to help out Asian grandmas, who are older and may not recognize these “free” things as well, retailers usually put up giant neon signs saying “Buy x number of items, get one FREE!” Because of sales like this, Asian households usually end up with way too much stuff being stored for that dubious day in the future when it might be useful. For example, downstairs under the pool table, my parents have about ten gallons of juice. When I was in middle school and visited my friend’s house, I was surprised, but not really, to see that the walls of her bedroom were not visible, as they were “papered” with about 5000 neatly stacked rolls of toilet paper. They were on sale, she explained. Ah, that explains it all, I nodded sagely.

All of this deal-hunting and secret napkin-stealing becomes ingrained in one’s very DNA. It is nearly impossible to resist. I find myself feeling a little antsy, kind of restless, when I’m at Souplantation and don’t go home with at least one napkin-wrapped muffin in my purse, or if I leave a hotel knowing that there’s still a little shampoo bottle sitting in the corner of the bathtub. One day, some Asian scientist (pushed into the field by well-meaning Asian parents, no doubt) will discover the gene for a free-napkin receptor, make an antagonist for it, and then McDonalds can safely set out its ketchup packets once again.

*greige = grayish beige

CT