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My name is Mr Thousands and I’ve worked in all sorts of jobs Most recently, I’ve been spending my time at home writing, and in my spare time, helping my mother out picking vegetables (With the recession, a good job’s hard to find) Every time I introduce myself, ever so politely, to strangers, I get a box on the ears and they shout: ‘What decent person would ever choose a Japanese name like Yiqianji?’   I’m always flummoxed As I finger my flaming cheek, I wonder why they don’t listen to my careful explanations People nowadays are so restless They listen to half of what you’re saying, they have half–marriages and even half–deaths: it’s not uncommon for someone on their death bed to crawl out and carry on picking vegetables   I rub my stiff jaw and patiently carry on with what I was saying: I wasn’t called Mr Thousands a year ago, but a writer’s got to have a pen name It’s like racing cyclists have to put on their helmets before they work those muscles I wasn’t happy with my original name Until I got the right pen name, I couldn’t get down to writing I can’t get used to ordinary pen names so I chose Mr Thousands   ‘So what were you called before? Mr Hundreds?’   Clever fellow He’ll be guessing my future pen name next Keeping company with bright people saves a lot of trouble When I was shivering outside the Writers’ Association building, standing right in a heap of snow to demonstrate my loyalty, in the hopes I could wangle a new set of woolly underwear out of them, I felt quite disconsolate It was my fate to be one of thousands!   It was just past New Year that I made up my mind that I was going to be a writer We’d had the New Year festivities, done all the eating and drinking, and then I came to the decision that I was going to start a new life as a writer, under the name Mr Thousands   I used a bit of money I’d saved from work, together with what my mum