HE LOOKS REASONABLY SAFE ...

When my apartment mate picked me up at the hospital, one of the staff assumed she was my "caregiver". Which is, in some ways, quite an improvement over the automatic guess from a few years ago that I was a dirty old man taking advantage of a sweet young thing. We aren't that widely separated in age -- she's eight years younger -- but I must have looked too wrecked to be dangerous (much improved now, thank you, evil twinkle back in eye) and she looked serious, and like an adult. Not an adult of very many years, but grown-up. Finally.

Still youthful, but you might think she finished college by now.

Cantonese women, of whatever age, will always look younger than a shifty white dude of an equivalent age or less. That's just how things are. I could be walking down the street next to a woman twenty years older than myself, and a witness would probably exclaim "oh you poor young thing, is the mean old Caucasian fellow forcing you to do stuff?"


I'll have to change my story. Telling people we first met in college strongly suggests that I went back to college with base intentions. "Why hellooo, little miss!"
And obviously I cannot claim that she is my daughter.

But what do I change the story to? Coworker?
Business consultant? Life coach?
Tax accountant?



She's a research scientist studying me.
Are white guys trainable?

She's my grandchild's grammar school teacher.

She came from outer space.

She's religious.

A nun.


Actually, I probably don't look like a skeevy old guy.
Just a friendly fellow, and a little bit gaunt.
Who might like to be "skeevy".
But too clean.


Evil twinkle.




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