taking a place

On Thursday morning, my friends and I found little red envelopes containing a little money and a good luck note in our assigned places. My friend C., the first generation child of Chinese immigrants, had given us all a traditional New Year's gift.

We all thought it was wonderfully sweet.

"Thank you so much," I said, grinning.

M. agreed. "I'm glad to get the luck early in the semester! I need it!"

C. laughed. "Just so long as you don't get too much luck! No taking my place!"

This had been our repeated joke last semester, our way of dealing with the harsh curve. "I'm gonna take your place," we toasted each other when we went out for cocktails. The only way to deal with the unpleasantness of rank is to laugh about it, we decided, and we laughed about it all semester.

M. smiled. "C., you're the best Chinese person ever. And that ranks you above billions."

C. and I giggled. "In that case," C. said, "I am so taking your place."