Friday, October 05, 2018

DATING MYSELF

One of the slang terms I've seen recently is C9. Which is a shorter way of writing 師奶 ('si naai'), meaning "housewife". Though not necessarily in a completely positive way. For instance, one could say that the entire collective of C9 should avoid downtown areas during lunch hour, because they jam up Walgreens, insta-teller machines, and the post office.
And, often, take up too much time then.

The term is one that heretofore I 5G ge.
[我唔知嘅]

As you would guess, these are text message abbreviations. Because I don't own a cellphone they did not cross my horizon till very recently. For the exact same reason, Trump's frantic emergency text message about space aliens breaching the wall and flooding across the border didn't reach me.

I guess I was one of the lucky few.
I did not panic.

All the rest of you ran around screaming, right?
And I can well understand that.


I was at work at the time, and my panic was entirely due to a glitch in the computers during a teleconference.


Some friends have urged me to get a cellphone, because texting is just so much easier, and in case of emergencies these things are incredibly useful.
And what if I ever start dating again? I'll need a cellphone then!

Firstly, the very last time I tried insta-messaging (on a computer) it was an interruptive pain in the gand, and secondly, my car will never blow a tire on the freeway in Bat Country, somewhere around Barstow.
I have a landline, and no vehicle.

And "dating again"?
Not very likely.

I mean, I am not at all opposed to the concept, and eternally positive about life, but this is San Francisco in the twenty first century.
I date from the twentieth.


Heck, I voted against the first Bush.
That nearly makes me antique.





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