MIDDLE-AGED PERVERSIONS

The other evening there were two conversations involving sexual preferences at the Occidental.
One of them was about someone's rich inner life, and the travails of being into Sado-Masochism. It was, in a fashion, a fascination little excursus.
This blogger is not into S&M, by the way. No, not even curious.
I am rather unimaginative in my predilections.


The other discussion started off when a middle-aged lawyer assumed that a slim willowy Chinese woman smoking a cigar was the paid floozy of the trim and elderly Chinese gentleman accompanying her. It was, as it turned out, a wildly inaccurate guess. She took his mistake with good grace.
Probably because he mentioned the obvious age difference.
In actual fact, she and her companion were approximately the same age. Her lack of visible grey, and her girlish figure, made it seem like she was at least a generation younger.

I've met her companion before. It turns out that both he and the young lady who was older than me had recently eaten at one of my favourite Chinatown restaurants, the name of which you do not need to know because they really cannot take any more casual visitors asking for cashew chicken or tomato beef, and we compared dining experiences while the middle-aged lawyer slunk out of the picture.

Ms. Wong then talked about the fetish that men have for little Asian women.
Seeing as she qualified on that score my ears perked up.
I had recently blogged about that very subject!

[This post: YOUR PERFECT GIRLFRIEND.]


LITTLE ASIAN WOMEN

I'm not entirely sure why so many men have fantasies about petite yellow flowers, but it seems to me that most of them simply want a girl friend who will obediently shut up and listen. Which, in many cases, appeals to them far more than any looks, intelligence, or quirky personality traits. And quite possibly they become convinced that only Asian women fit the bill precisely.

Which many of them probably do.

How..... boring.

I shan't deny that some Asian women are quite lovely.
But only if their faces are doing something.
Blandness has no appeal at all.

One of my favourite people is in fact an Asian female.
A small, petite, elfin Cantonese woman.
Who is at least thirty years older than me.
When I first met her she was working at a coffee shop, and though I could not tell her age at the time, it was somewhat obvious that she was of another generation. Like many Cantonese women she dyed her hair to hide the grey, and unlike white women of the same age she had hardly any wrinkles.
She was fascinated by other people, and keenly interested in what they did, what they thought, how they felt. Not a forward person, but self-confident, alive, and herself interesting.
She still is.

Since she retired she's been to Alaska, Japan, Cuba, Egypt, Italy, and Northern Europe. She likes talking about what she found there, and the people she met while travelling. But she also wants to know what you did.
And did you have a good time doing it?


Another Cantonese woman of whom I am very fond has strong opinions, a vibrant albeit eccentric sense of humour, and fevered passions for antique jewelry, lobster, and the depraved behaviour of European nobility.
Shy, yes. But eloquent, witty, and fierce.

In fact, no woman whom I consider a friend is bland. Not a single one of them is likely to shut up and obediently listen while a man goes on and on. That just isn't something they can do. They are far too intelligent for that.

My fantasies do not involve women with shapeless minds.
I'll admit that I like quietness.
But exactly like conversation, it has to be shared.
One-sided silence is deadly, and meek little girlie-girls are nauseating.



The only women worth knowing are the ones who are stubborn and talk back.
If they have a mop of dark hair and small hands, this too is good.
Oh, and a lively interest in food. That really is essential.



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