On Nanking East Road, a man in a suit stops at a vending stall selling neckties. He takes a few neckties and places them against his shirt, checking them in the mirror.
"This one looks handsome! A strong-performance stock." said the vendor, Mrs Tsai.
"How much for one?" the man asked.
"You have 'A-bian luck!' Before it was NT$390; now it's four for NT$1,000," she said.
"He gave me no luck!" the man replies. "He made me lose lots of money -- that's why I am here bargaining with you. I don't need a `strong-performance stock.' I need a `drop-proof' stock," he says jokingly, while examining the tie's quality.
But few people have found anything to laugh about concerning the stock market recently and are even less likely to find any in the near future.
PHOTO: CHEN CHENG-CHANG, TAIPEI TIMES
Tsai use of the phrase "A-bian luck" satirizes the dropping prices of her market wares, which she said were linked to the recent tumble of Taiwan's stock market index -- the TAIEX.
The volatile stock exchange has fallen more than 3,200 points since President Chen Shui-bian (陳水扁) took office in May and may be poised for another rough patch as fallout begins to settle from the cancelation of the Fourth Nuclear Power Plant.
The Cabinet announced the plant's fate yesterday, shortly after the market closed.
Adding to the economic uncertainty is a rising unemployment rate, which recently reached a new peak of 3.2 percent. Roughly 302,000 people are currently jobless.
This number is the highest for 21 months and in the case of Tsai, has contributed to a NT$20,000 per month decline in her bottom line as people curb their spending.
For others, the situation means mounting debts and more extreme circumstances.
A week ago, a 26-year-old man put his kidney up for sale on the Internet for NT$2 million in order to pay off debts. He said his ailing stocks were bought through loans from friends and banks.
Selling off his kidney seemed to him the only way to pay back the debts.
Most people, however, are dealing with their sour fortunes by turning to two of Taiwan's old favorites for earning quick cash in a pinch -- street vending and taxi driving.
"From this street to Sungchiang Road, there are quite a few newcomers," Tsai said, adding that whenever there is an economic slump, there is a growth of street vendors. "This is normal. This is usually our last resort for making a living," she said.
Su Tsong-chun (蘇宗均) and his friend Ho Wen-chang (何文章) are two newcomers to street vending. They sell jackets on Sungchiang Road. Su began only one month ago after being laid off as a sales representative. And Ho got into the business to pay off gambling debts.
"People think you can earn more than NT$100,000 [per month] being a vendor, but it's not true," Su said, adding that he earns just NT$20,000 for his efforts.
When it comes to street vendors, one might easily think of Wufenpu (五分埔) in Taipei's eastern Sungshan district. It is the largest wholesale market for clothes, where most new vendors get their first stock of clothes.
"At least 10 new stalls have appeared on this street. Most of them sell cold drinks, egg-cakes or sausages," said Mr Yeh, who was a chef at a five-star hotel for six years.
Two years ago he was laid off by the hotel and started his stall at Chung-po Park (中坡公園) near Wufenpu.
"I used to make NT$80,000 a month at hotels. Now I only earn NT$30,000 a month," he said -- by making and selling Tepanyaki bread in the night market for 11 hours a day.
A couple of months ago, he said, there were still people coming and going at late hours, perusing and buying goods at the market.
"Now you can't see anyone here," Yeh said, adding that the new vendors just meant more competition for the former chef.
The 40-year-old Yeh said he could hardly apply for a better job now, as most restaurants look for younger chefs.
"Now I don't earn as much as I did, but at least I'm on my own, and soon I want to have my own shop," he said.
A few nights ago, as the island braced for a typhoon, owning a new business was far from the reality of taxi drivers crowding a corner of Chunghsiao East Road.
A dozen taxies waited, hoping for fares. It was double the usual number.
"The number of radio-equipped cabs has increased 10 to 20 percent in the last two months," said Cheng Chih-ming (
Chen Chin-hsien (陳金憲) is one of those new drivers. He used to be a design manager at a textile factory a few months ago. He now plies Taipei's hectic streets.
"Although my earnings are NT$20,000 less [down to NT$40,000 per month], the job keeps me from absolute poverty," he said.
But Chen is philosophical about his new line of work. "This job's okay. It's free, no pressure from above," he says.
Such freedom also suits vendors such as Tsai and Ho.
"If jackets don't sell, I'll just sell something else" Ho says.
Even avoiding the police has its entertainment value.
"I'm used to dodging the cops, it's kind of fun. There's one cop who's known me a long time. He knows I never pay the fines on the tickets he gives me. I've got 50 tickets already. I like to decorate my house with them," said necktie vendor Tsai.
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