Monday, May 29, 2006
The Housewarming Party
On Saturday, P took good care to dress up for the housewarming party. The theme was "Arabian Nights". However, she did not conform to the fancy dress theme. So did many of the guests.
In fact, she turned up in a low-cut black wrap jersey dress accessorised with her horseshoe diamond pendant necklace, her Furla crystal watch, green satin diamante buckled belt and a diamante hairband. And of course, killer heels. With matching diamante buckles.
The address was in a fanciful suburb with good harbour views, which was accompanied by all the modern amenities in the residential development that marked the epitome of good urban chic living . And that setup too, came with a huge price tag.
Welcome to the humble abode of Dope and his Designated Love.
She entered the apartment. The furnishing was exactly like the way she imagined it to be, right down to the matching brown hues. On the side table sat two picture frames of Dope and his Designated Love in their graduation get-up that served as a suitable thematic backdrop for college- sweethearts- happy- endings. She got a Japanese contemporary vase that matched with the decor as a gift to the lady of the house. She was pretty pleased with her good choice. She thought Dope might find that tasteful.
The Lady of the House had cooked up a big feast mostly in the Asian variety, but balanced with platters of cheese, dips and fruits painstakingly presented, exuding the domestic influence she has on the household, but taking into consideration his part Western descendency . For days leading up to this big day of public displayal in domestic bliss, P had learnt that she had spent many an hour planning for the occasion, while Dope assisted in the domestic chores of playing chauffer/ shopping bag carrier.
At the party, P caught up with old university friends that she had not seen in years and also made a few fresh industry contacts. Two guys (one with girlfriend in tow and the other one, who had received her at the door earlier in the evening) eyed her curiously and constantly as she became aware. She continued to ignore them since they made no attempts to introduce themselves which she found rude. Such, she felt was a social obligation that one must observe as a sign of graciousness in indoor settings if one has caught the attention of the observee. Throughout the party, P did not speak to Dope. And neither did he except for making two valuable introductions- one, a swaps trader (in his attempt to help P to resolve her professional challenge of working in that space) and two, his personal assistant (who was quick to recognise P as the person she has spoken with a number of times on the phone; P was quite relieved that the Lady of the House was not within hearing distance).
Strangely, P sensed a conscious attempt by the Lady of the House to distant herself from her. On a number of occasions, P observed the social decorum of a grateful guest and responded to her jovial prompts to the guests at large to help finish up her food or have a taste at her untouched curry. Whenever, P walked up to the dining area and replied gently and assuringly that she would have a pick at the food first, the Lady of the House changed her tone rather drastically and replied rather tersely, "Don't worry! That's fine."
On one occasion, P sat on a chair propped against the wall. She was surrounded by a bunch of people as they stood around chatting. Whilst engaging in conversation with the swaps trader, P noticed at her one o'clock, the Lady of the House staring at her and whispering to the (staring) guy who had earlier received her at the door. When their eyes met, the Lady of the House was quick to look away. However, from P's peripheral view, she became aware that the guy and the Lady of the House continued to be engrossed in their private talk and frequently shifted their gazes back at P. That disturbed P a little. She probably knows something is wrong, using her female instincts. Or maybe she was cautioned by the common friend who saw Dope and P on one Thursday evening months ago...
When it was time for the guests to leave, Dope and the Lady of the House stood at the door to see them off. P thanked the Lady of the House for having her and mentioned that her food was great. She seemed a little awkward at receiving the compliments. Then she turned to Dope like the way she would to an old acquaintaince and also thanked him, a tad too formal but which at that time and place, deemed a necessity. If it helps at all to allay the lurking instinctive suspicions within the Lady of the House and which, she fully understands, an expected behaviour towards each other in their separate public selves...
After all, it would be tricky to account for the missing puzzle of mutual familiarity they feel towards the other; those six lost years of no contact should quite set them apart. But which this cruel fate has helped re-traced those tracks to enable them to find one another in a new city, fast forward six years from the time they first met; only that both have been quite resolved to seal their own fates and to stick to their designated harbours...
On Saturday, P took good care to dress up for the housewarming party. The theme was "Arabian Nights". However, she did not conform to the fancy dress theme. So did many of the guests.
In fact, she turned up in a low-cut black wrap jersey dress accessorised with her horseshoe diamond pendant necklace, her Furla crystal watch, green satin diamante buckled belt and a diamante hairband. And of course, killer heels. With matching diamante buckles.
The address was in a fanciful suburb with good harbour views, which was accompanied by all the modern amenities in the residential development that marked the epitome of good urban chic living . And that setup too, came with a huge price tag.
Welcome to the humble abode of Dope and his Designated Love.
She entered the apartment. The furnishing was exactly like the way she imagined it to be, right down to the matching brown hues. On the side table sat two picture frames of Dope and his Designated Love in their graduation get-up that served as a suitable thematic backdrop for college- sweethearts- happy- endings. She got a Japanese contemporary vase that matched with the decor as a gift to the lady of the house. She was pretty pleased with her good choice. She thought Dope might find that tasteful.
The Lady of the House had cooked up a big feast mostly in the Asian variety, but balanced with platters of cheese, dips and fruits painstakingly presented, exuding the domestic influence she has on the household, but taking into consideration his part Western descendency . For days leading up to this big day of public displayal in domestic bliss, P had learnt that she had spent many an hour planning for the occasion, while Dope assisted in the domestic chores of playing chauffer/ shopping bag carrier.
At the party, P caught up with old university friends that she had not seen in years and also made a few fresh industry contacts. Two guys (one with girlfriend in tow and the other one, who had received her at the door earlier in the evening) eyed her curiously and constantly as she became aware. She continued to ignore them since they made no attempts to introduce themselves which she found rude. Such, she felt was a social obligation that one must observe as a sign of graciousness in indoor settings if one has caught the attention of the observee. Throughout the party, P did not speak to Dope. And neither did he except for making two valuable introductions- one, a swaps trader (in his attempt to help P to resolve her professional challenge of working in that space) and two, his personal assistant (who was quick to recognise P as the person she has spoken with a number of times on the phone; P was quite relieved that the Lady of the House was not within hearing distance).
Strangely, P sensed a conscious attempt by the Lady of the House to distant herself from her. On a number of occasions, P observed the social decorum of a grateful guest and responded to her jovial prompts to the guests at large to help finish up her food or have a taste at her untouched curry. Whenever, P walked up to the dining area and replied gently and assuringly that she would have a pick at the food first, the Lady of the House changed her tone rather drastically and replied rather tersely, "Don't worry! That's fine."
On one occasion, P sat on a chair propped against the wall. She was surrounded by a bunch of people as they stood around chatting. Whilst engaging in conversation with the swaps trader, P noticed at her one o'clock, the Lady of the House staring at her and whispering to the (staring) guy who had earlier received her at the door. When their eyes met, the Lady of the House was quick to look away. However, from P's peripheral view, she became aware that the guy and the Lady of the House continued to be engrossed in their private talk and frequently shifted their gazes back at P. That disturbed P a little. She probably knows something is wrong, using her female instincts. Or maybe she was cautioned by the common friend who saw Dope and P on one Thursday evening months ago...
When it was time for the guests to leave, Dope and the Lady of the House stood at the door to see them off. P thanked the Lady of the House for having her and mentioned that her food was great. She seemed a little awkward at receiving the compliments. Then she turned to Dope like the way she would to an old acquaintaince and also thanked him, a tad too formal but which at that time and place, deemed a necessity. If it helps at all to allay the lurking instinctive suspicions within the Lady of the House and which, she fully understands, an expected behaviour towards each other in their separate public selves...
After all, it would be tricky to account for the missing puzzle of mutual familiarity they feel towards the other; those six lost years of no contact should quite set them apart. But which this cruel fate has helped re-traced those tracks to enable them to find one another in a new city, fast forward six years from the time they first met; only that both have been quite resolved to seal their own fates and to stick to their designated harbours...
Monday, May 22, 2006
He's such a Cutie...
That is P's shampoo boy.
Yesterday, P spent a huge fortune and a great amount of time at the hair salon.
Well, Shampoo Boy served as a piece of eye candy for her.
She noticed him the day before she accompanied her sister to the salon. But he took no notice of her. He was eyeing the girl next to P.
P was in need of a major hairlift so her appointment was adjourned to the next day.
******
When P rushed in late for her 11am appointment, she was flustered. She was promptly ushered to be seated by Shampoo Boy while the Managing Director arrived to survey the state of her damaged hair. Then he disappeared shortly again and left her in the care of Shampoo Boy.
"Are you a Taiwanese?" he asked her in Mandarin.
"No, I am a Singaporean." she replied in kind. She detected his Hong Kong accent.
He led her to the reclining seats and shampooed her hair.
"Have you been here before to do your hair?"
"No, I haven't. But my sister has. I was here with her last night."
"Did you? I didn't see you. When?
"When it was almost closing time."
"It was busy. Maybe that's why." he offered.
Well, I was sitting within your line of vision. But of course, you would not have noticed me. Cos you had your sights pretty much set on that bimbotic young, bratty mainlander Chinese girl who attempted to look Japanese! Duh...
Some more small talk.
Then silence.
*****
Back to the hairdressing seat.
"Why didn't I see you yesterday?" he asked again.
"Well, I was here like I said. Maybe cos you were busy." she replied.
Another shampoo girl came along and each took half a parting of her hair and attempted the ardous of task of combing through her long and heavily tangled hair damaged from a nasty perm.
****
P spent a good six hours at the salon.
Her hair was washed and treated many times over but not always by him. On many occasions, he was ushered to attend to the growing numbers of customers.
She eyed him through the reflection of the mirror. Sometimes their eyes met and both responded to being caught in the act of sneak peeking with a shy sheepish smile.
P almost feel young again, like being in a teeny booper romance all over again. She reckoned Shampoo Boy must be around 20. And she has just turned 27.
**********
They found out snippets of each other's lives while he dyed her hair and carefully wiped off the stains on her forehead.
Shampoo Boy is indeed from Hong Kong. He migrated to Sydney 4 years ago and finished high school and started his job a year ago. When he was younger, he lived in Vancouver. Interesting enough profile.
She took care not to lead him to the opportunity of asking about her age. The Managing Director had earlier mentioned that she looked like a uni student of around aged 22.
In their conversations, she revealed to Shampoo Boy about where she attended university, her time in Paris and before a boutique manager and she also responded to his query about her current profession.
If Shampoo Boy added all that up, P would be at least a good 25 years old. This is not to mention that she bumped around for a good two years and did a double degree after.
************
P is not used to flirting in Mandarin. Not that she is not good at speaking the language (in fact she has a degree in Chinese).
The way coquetry works in the Chinese context just does not deliver the same desired effect that P is used to. In short, P just does not have the vocabulary in Chinese and the associated personality to flirt in the way she is used to. That is to say to flirt in her signature confident, flash out ways. The best she could help herself to score some brownie points was to remain somewhat coy and soft spoken.
Guess that kind of worked for this male market that she has never been operative in. She could quite pull off the Japanese, youngish face, fair complexion and cultured image that this type (read dyed messy hair, cute teeny booper Japo look in typical low rise stove piped jeans and canvas shoes streetgear) often gets attracted to.
*******
Funny though, P's growing quietness in Shampoo Boy's presence was partly not orchestrated.
She could almost hear her heart thumping wildly as he touched her hair, commented on how she should care for it, part it and complemented on the good choice of colour. She suffered a gamat of emotions ranging from self-consiousness, all blushy from his compliments, light-headedness and all classic symptons typical of a highly infatuated school girl.
Then she understood the rationality of why certain tai-tais keep toy boys. Maybe it's because these young boys sort of help them to re-capture their youth, those lost years they might have possibly spent looking for good deals in the husband material market so that they never had to quite worry on how they are ever going to live for the rest of their lives. There, they managed to ensnare older men, only hoping later in their lives that they had lived their age and experienced that teeny booper, innocent first love experiences that they never had while busy scrambling to survive....
That is P's shampoo boy.
Yesterday, P spent a huge fortune and a great amount of time at the hair salon.
Well, Shampoo Boy served as a piece of eye candy for her.
She noticed him the day before she accompanied her sister to the salon. But he took no notice of her. He was eyeing the girl next to P.
P was in need of a major hairlift so her appointment was adjourned to the next day.
******
When P rushed in late for her 11am appointment, she was flustered. She was promptly ushered to be seated by Shampoo Boy while the Managing Director arrived to survey the state of her damaged hair. Then he disappeared shortly again and left her in the care of Shampoo Boy.
"Are you a Taiwanese?" he asked her in Mandarin.
"No, I am a Singaporean." she replied in kind. She detected his Hong Kong accent.
He led her to the reclining seats and shampooed her hair.
"Have you been here before to do your hair?"
"No, I haven't. But my sister has. I was here with her last night."
"Did you? I didn't see you. When?
"When it was almost closing time."
"It was busy. Maybe that's why." he offered.
Well, I was sitting within your line of vision. But of course, you would not have noticed me. Cos you had your sights pretty much set on that bimbotic young, bratty mainlander Chinese girl who attempted to look Japanese! Duh...
Some more small talk.
Then silence.
*****
Back to the hairdressing seat.
"Why didn't I see you yesterday?" he asked again.
"Well, I was here like I said. Maybe cos you were busy." she replied.
Another shampoo girl came along and each took half a parting of her hair and attempted the ardous of task of combing through her long and heavily tangled hair damaged from a nasty perm.
****
P spent a good six hours at the salon.
Her hair was washed and treated many times over but not always by him. On many occasions, he was ushered to attend to the growing numbers of customers.
She eyed him through the reflection of the mirror. Sometimes their eyes met and both responded to being caught in the act of sneak peeking with a shy sheepish smile.
P almost feel young again, like being in a teeny booper romance all over again. She reckoned Shampoo Boy must be around 20. And she has just turned 27.
**********
They found out snippets of each other's lives while he dyed her hair and carefully wiped off the stains on her forehead.
Shampoo Boy is indeed from Hong Kong. He migrated to Sydney 4 years ago and finished high school and started his job a year ago. When he was younger, he lived in Vancouver. Interesting enough profile.
She took care not to lead him to the opportunity of asking about her age. The Managing Director had earlier mentioned that she looked like a uni student of around aged 22.
In their conversations, she revealed to Shampoo Boy about where she attended university, her time in Paris and before a boutique manager and she also responded to his query about her current profession.
If Shampoo Boy added all that up, P would be at least a good 25 years old. This is not to mention that she bumped around for a good two years and did a double degree after.
************
P is not used to flirting in Mandarin. Not that she is not good at speaking the language (in fact she has a degree in Chinese).
The way coquetry works in the Chinese context just does not deliver the same desired effect that P is used to. In short, P just does not have the vocabulary in Chinese and the associated personality to flirt in the way she is used to. That is to say to flirt in her signature confident, flash out ways. The best she could help herself to score some brownie points was to remain somewhat coy and soft spoken.
Guess that kind of worked for this male market that she has never been operative in. She could quite pull off the Japanese, youngish face, fair complexion and cultured image that this type (read dyed messy hair, cute teeny booper Japo look in typical low rise stove piped jeans and canvas shoes streetgear) often gets attracted to.
*******
Funny though, P's growing quietness in Shampoo Boy's presence was partly not orchestrated.
She could almost hear her heart thumping wildly as he touched her hair, commented on how she should care for it, part it and complemented on the good choice of colour. She suffered a gamat of emotions ranging from self-consiousness, all blushy from his compliments, light-headedness and all classic symptons typical of a highly infatuated school girl.
Then she understood the rationality of why certain tai-tais keep toy boys. Maybe it's because these young boys sort of help them to re-capture their youth, those lost years they might have possibly spent looking for good deals in the husband material market so that they never had to quite worry on how they are ever going to live for the rest of their lives. There, they managed to ensnare older men, only hoping later in their lives that they had lived their age and experienced that teeny booper, innocent first love experiences that they never had while busy scrambling to survive....
