Which means I'm not a normal woman. Not if that's an indicator, anyway. I can't think of anyone outside my family right now that I'd want to talk to about personal shit; and if I talk to someone in the family, I know it's just a matter of time before it gets back to my folks. It's not that I couldn't talk to my folks about anything (Theoretically. I guess.), but I want them to enjoy their last years as much as possible, without having to concern themselves, or even be aware of, the silly fucking concerns of their silly fucking reprobate daughter.
So, Melbs ... that pretty much leaves you. You're an intelligent, thoughtful, and understanding enough person that I feel like I can have a (semi) serious chat (don't want to get too maudlin here) with you, and you're removed enough from my regular life, that I feel like it could be about pretty much anything (Except maybe some of the older stuff. Maybe. But that's not important right now). Sorry to spring this on you, but this may be the point where this blog jumps the shark and turns into a much more pathetic and less well written version of Perseus' posts about his romantic misadventures. Or not.
Continue at your peril!
BACKGROUND:
You remember Sammo (I think that was the name I used)? He's the bloke I sometimes work with, who has a really mean, sleazy sense of humour.
And you remember a while back that I mentioned some dealings with a Chinese fella who's been expanding his business into Australia?
Well ...
You remember Sammo (I think that was the name I used)? He's the bloke I sometimes work with, who has a really mean, sleazy sense of humour.
And you remember a while back that I mentioned some dealings with a Chinese fella who's been expanding his business into Australia?
Well ...
Last night, I go over to the Chinese bloke's room for a quiet tea consisting of meat, salad, and some shop talk.
He starts by offering me a type of beer I've never seen before, with a label I can't read. I hold up my tea pot in response ...
He starts by offering me a type of beer I've never seen before, with a label I can't read. I hold up my tea pot in response ...
ME: Ta, but nah thanks. I reckon I'm pretty right, 'ay. I might pinch ya kettle but.
HIM: So, Alex, have you got marry since the last time I see you?
ME: ...... aaaaaahhhhh, no. How 'bout you?
HIM: No, but I looking.
ME: ...... um, haven't found anyone then, 'ay?
HIM: No, not in China. I think is better to look in Australia. Much better women here, you know?
ME: ..... um, issat right? ... um, like how d'ya mean?
HIM: I don't know how to describe it. Maybe is just like personal taste, you know? But like, I enjoy the company more than with Chinese girl, you know?
ME: Well, um, a good lookin' bloke like you shouldn't have trouble findin' someone decent, 'ay? {I should introduce him to Tanya. Yeah, no I shouldn't}
HIM: You think so?
ME: Yeah. No worries.
We spend a few hours discussing stuff like the infrastructure his business uses to circumvent the great firewall, and if it can be done better, cheaper, more securely, etc. I think he drinks about a sixpack in that time.
Then he starts asking me about little maintenance issues with his laptop. Why can't I do so-and-so; when I do this, I get that message; can I make it do such-and-such; etc, etc. At some point, I fix a codec problem with his media player and he starts playing music. It sounds like a fairly generic mix of greatest hits type stuff. He rolls a joint and lights it up. He offers it to me but I shake my head.
Then he starts asking me about little maintenance issues with his laptop. Why can't I do so-and-so; when I do this, I get that message; can I make it do such-and-such; etc, etc. At some point, I fix a codec problem with his media player and he starts playing music. It sounds like a fairly generic mix of greatest hits type stuff. He rolls a joint and lights it up. He offers it to me but I shake my head.
HIM: I can't believe you. You don't drink and you don't smoke. How do you, like ahhh, relax and unwind?
ME: ... I guess I'm generally, um, relaxed enough, 'ay?
HIM: Yeah, you a pretty cool chick, 'ay?
Laughing
HIM: I think I need you.
ME: .... ?
HIM: I think you come and work for me. Just for computer. Because I'm so bad with computer, you know?
ME: I dunno. Most of this shit's in Chinese. I dunno what any of it means. I'm really just fumbling around.
HIM: Don't worry about that. I teach you. Is easy. If I learn English, you can learn Chinese. Oh wait, look at this ...
He clicks on a folder, and a bunch of porno images with little "play" icons pop up. He clicks on one and the video starts to play over the top of Red Hot Chili Peppers "Suck My Kiss" (I don't know if that's the proper title, but you know the song.)
HIM: You see this? Seemore give me all this porno movie. He say that most of it come from you. That you really like the porno movie.
ME: ... Wait, who?
HIM: Say-more.
ME: Say ... more?
HIM: Say ... mo?
ME: ... Oh, fuckin' Sammo ... yeah, that'd be right. {I'd be amazed if the cunt didn't also say that I'm a raging nymphomaniac who roots multiple blokes at once and proselytises the wonders of double penetration. ... Oh fuck, I just said "that'd be right", implying that I did give Sammo all that porno? Shit, do I get all serious and set the record straight here, or just laugh it off?}
HIM: Some of it is very strange. Is just a man with another man. I don't like that, you know. But some of it is very good. Before, I only see Japanese porno movie with Asian girl. Australian girl is much better, you know?
ME: Oh, um, right ...
On the screen, a sheila is vigorously riding a bloke atop one of those big exercise balls. *boing, boing, boing*
HIM: So, what kind of man do you like?
ME: ............... {Quick, buy some time by making an umm noise} ummmmmmmm {The fuck? Is this chit-chat because he thinks I'm into porn? Does he think I asked Sammo to give him that porn because I'm interested in him? Is he interested in me? Why (can't be looks or charm)? If so, to what end? Is he thinking of a one-night thing or something more? Is that what the job shit was about? But what about the marriage shit? Is he chasing a sham-marriage with an Aussie? If so, would that be so bad? What would I stand to gain? What are the risks? What would I have to do? He's not a bad looker. Seems all right. That stupid bloody author woman says to just put the canoe in the water and paddle. How would that go? Am I a person of low moral fibre for even considering it? Or that my mind went there when it wasn't even really being offered? Maybe I should introduce him to Tanya. The fuck is wrong with me? Shouldn't I have figured some of this out by now? Maybe it's a cultural divide. Maybe I'm over-thinking things because I'm sober. *boing, boing, boing*. Wait, are those two still shagging on that exercise ball? Holy fuck, is Daft Punk's "Get Lucky" playing? Jezus Christ. Shit, I haven't answered yet ... } mmm ...
I look up and realise I've been staring at the screen and he's been staring at me. *boing, boing, boing*
ME: ... um, Yeah. That's a hard one to answer. Actually, did you hear that one of our federal MPs got asked that question on radio?
HIM: No?
ME: Yeah, she reckons she wanted a bloke with a big dick an' lotsa money.
HIM: Really? She say that on the radio?
ME: Yeah. Media had a field day with it. {Nice sidestep, Alex}
HIM: So, you also like man with really big dick?
ME: {Oh fuck, where does this end?}
Aaaaaaarrrrrggggghhhhh. The bloke on the screen starts wanking off into the sheila's mouth.
ME: {Fuckin' hell} Ha, ha. Well, ah, doesn't everyone, 'ay? But, um, well, um, anyway, she was from the Palmer Party. Y'know, the ones who called the Chinese a pack of communist mongrels who shoot their own, or whatever it was. She's actually the one that, um, reckoned that we need missiles here to fend off a possible invasion, y'know? That get much press over there?
HIM: Meh. It got some press, but I don't think there is that much concern. Besides, it's a complicated issue, and not all of what she say is wrong ...
The conversation mercifully swings away from penis size, and there is no more porn movies or talk of job offers or marriage for the evening.
But who knows what the next few weeks have in store? Which is why I encourage you to do your own analysis of this fucking oddball evening and let me know what the fuck you think was going on. Hopefully, the only issue here is in my head. But while it's in my head, it's still an issue. And I need outside input. Do you think a male perspective would help? Or a Chinese one? Do you know anyone who might know?
Basically, I'm shit at dealing with people.
Also, I saw a scrub turkey.
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| Gobble, gobble, gobble* |
