Always a story, even when you just go for noodles

So there is this amazing Muslim noodle shop across the street from my hotel here in Guangzhou. Go figure, noodles in China. Anyway, the place is awesome and I don't think I could do the noodles justice with words, but believe me, they're good. The best part about it is that the guy literally makes the noodles in front of you and each meal ranges from 0.95cents US to 1.25$ US.... I mean, really.
So I went there by myself today with my current read, P.S. I love you (only because book 4 of Twilight is still on it's way from the states) with full intention of ordering and getting some good book time in. Right as I walked in I realized that was not going to happen at all because I was greeted at the door by a man very anxious to speak with me. He asked where I was from and I said America (common response...United States takes too many repetitions for people to understand) and from that point, we were long lost friends. He started by of course pulling up a chair for myself and he to share a table so he could pick my brain. He was a very small, very fast speaking Chinese man who was literally the stereotype we all imagine: balding, a bit of a waddle, and teeth that leave something to be desired. All in all though, salt of the earth.
So come to find out, he is a translator who can translate between Arabic, Mandarin, a bit of English and a touch of French (he had me at Bonjour).
He proceeded to pull out his little notebook with all the English phrases that he had been practicing (by the by, he is teaching himself English and has only been at it for 6 months and trumped some of the English speakers I know with his grammar) and one by one we went through each phrase and I corrected his pronunciation and inflection. Here and there, I would ask a common question about his life and where he was from. He asked me to guess his age and I started at 33 to be polite, and after he was done laughing he encouraged me higher and when I reached 40, he said, "yeah, maybe 40." Frankly, that is the best answer to "how old are you?" I've ever heard. I shall use it from on!
"oh, today? yeah, maybe i'm 24....tomorrow? well, by then I might be 30, we'll see how I feel." (It'll come in handy later I have no doubt)
So a solid hour and fifteen minutes of slow, but comprehendable english/mandarin convo, with only one HUGE lost in translation moment (when he was trying to say "container" and it sounded like "quin-tin-are"...i was totally lost and it handed me the only blank stare i gave in his direction) he told me that he wanted to practice his English with me everyday over noodles. Where was this old man three weeks ago when I got to Guangzhou with nothing to do? I explained how I was leaving for Shanghai tomorrow and though he grimaced a little, he smiled and said, "May God bless us both."(a phrase I had already corrected his pronunciation on and he said it perfectly) We shook hands, I paid my bill, and with that, we parted ways.
Very cool, this place.