That was the succinct message delivered in a shrill girlish voice, with a slight Chinese accent. It was uttered during a momentary quiet on the bus, and consequently everyone heard it. I saw several people trying not to smile.
I saw the person who had uttered those promising words too. She was standing right next to me.
Fortunately, she had not directed those words at me, but at her companion. Who was probably at least three or four inches taller. And also female. Not even five feet high herself. Both girls were in their early teens, both of them wore glasses. Neither one of them resembled Eric Cartman from Southpark in any way - too small and petite.
I had surreptitiously listened in on the conversation that lead up to the threat against the nuts. It had started with a perfectly innocent detailing of spending money immediately available, and items that desperately needed buying. To whit: twenty dollars and coins, versus 'A Gal's Guide To Dating A Geek' (I think it's about fourteen dollars) plus a Hello Kitty Halloween something-or-other (fifteen dollars).
It's interesting listening in on innocent little maidens talking about spending like maniacs - at their age, maniacal spending is so very much more modest, and much more eccentric; they have not quite settled into a pedestrian adult appreciation of clothing, tattoos, and lipstick.
They were at odds about the book - apparently it is only available on the internet, and neither one of them has a credit card.
Maybelle (the one who rhetorically at least owns the nuts) has a brother named Percy who has a credit card - but apparently he's a 'conniving creep', or something, and Winnie (the shorter of the two) doesn't want to impose upon him, or be in any way beholden to him ("Why not? He LIKES you!"), because he's a 'total jerk'.
Maybelle is desperate for the book ("It's like a total roadmap, you know?"), and ambivalent about the Hello Kitty whatever-it-is ("EVERYONE has it already, so what's the point?") and heck, the "only reason YOU want it is so that you can give it to Jason!" .
At this point, miss Cartman solicitously offered to kick her in the nuts. Maybelle then offered to 'step' on her, bee-aitch. The argument went no further because they noticed they were already at Stockton Street - "Homes, let's go get some NOODOOS!"
The noodles probably helped them resolve their difference of opinion (in addition to wiping out the surplus cash). Nothing speaks so much to the Cantonese-American female as food. It is the great be-all, end-all, answer-all of Cantonese-American feminine life.....
Food. Food! FOOD!!! Don't interfere with my food, unless you want to DIE!
Chinatown is aswarm with chopstick-packing mamas on the prowl for something to eat; don't come near if you look edible.
Savage Kitten is like that. The prospect of a delayed dinner makes her wail, and whenever I ask if she needs anything at the store, she hopefully suggests lobster. The word 'cake' is the ultimate expression of a happy prospect, the phrase 'deep-fry that sucker' is so innate to her that she utters it in her sleep, and 'soooo-o-o-oup!' is almost the ultimate utterance of temptation and comfort. "Soup! With noodoos! And tasty bits!"
The word 'delicious' is often replaced with "got any more?"
Cantonese girls like food. Did YOU know that?
If the lobster-aliens ever land their spaceship in Chinatown, we will never know. They'll be hunted down by small Cantonese-American women wielding clackitty chopsticks, and not even scraps will be left to show that they had even visited.
Heck, it has probably already happened. They did not stand a chance!
A swarm of hungry females swooped down upon them and used their flying saucer as a giant wok - Now we'll NEVER be allowed into the Intergalactic Alliance!
On the other hand, we won't be herded into pens and sold to bug-aliens for fertilizer either.
Yes, you may go ahead and thank the small Cantonese-American women wielding clackitty chopsticks.
Their hunger saved us.
"Got any more?"
Note: A large part of the speculation above about Cantonese-American women is based on Savage Kitten's personality. Other Cantonese-American women may not be entirely like that. I have been blessed.
Further note: If you are dating a Cantonese-American woman, FEED HER! There is no more damning a statement about a date than "he didn't feeeeeed me!" uttered by a small Cantonese-American woman. The man may be nerdy, pudgy, and short, but all is forgiven if he makes pronto with the food. Food is the great social lubricant, the great pacifier, the great diplomatic overture. Rather than planning a night's entertainment, decide upon a restaurant, and make sure that there is a tempting variety of dishes. She will like you if you do. And after you've seen her safely off home (before nine o'clock!), she'll have warm happy feelings about you. It's the most effective approach you can make. It shows you care.
Yet another note: Cantonese-American women have bird-like appetites. Some birds can eat up to twice their own body-weight on a daily basis. Especially if they are cold. This is valuable information to have.
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God, I love this City!
On a totally unrelated note, Trinidad and Tobago just beat the US in World Cup qualifying and are almost assured of going on to the next round; all they have to do is play Cuba to a draw. Maybe we'll see Stern John on the world's biggest stage again in 2010. Life is good.
P.S.: Shaka Hisslop wasn't in goal for Trinidad and Tobago; anyone know why?
Stop scorching my balls!
Scorched balls - a delicacy that prepares itself. Or a drunkard sitting on a hot plate. I cannot imagine a sober person doing so, so the question one naturally must ask is, why would a habitual drinker place his hot plate at posterior level? It speaks of a singular lack of forethought. Most inadvisable.
Rule number one: put everything hot higher than your botty. The world would be a much happier place if more people did so.
It would appear that Shaka Hislop is not on the Soca Warriors National Team roster, and I for one find that to be a shame.
Speak cricket, dammit!
Or speak of panties. Don't tell me those young lovelies were wearing jeans. I do not wish to hear of it. Far far better short short skirts and high high socks. And the merest edge of lace aflash as they merrily scampered off for noodles.
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