A VERY BIG SLICE OF CAKE

Sometimes I get the idea that I'm actually a rather likable old coot. That, certainly, is the reaction I got from four twenty-sometings recently -- three men and one woman, plus a middleaged pipesmoker, as well as three Chinese women of various ages. One Toisanese, one Hong Kong, one from Shanghai. But I do not understand why this is.
Perhaps mature Dutch Americans are a thing.
Which is utterly baffling.

Maybe it's my aura. Which is golden and rather cheese-like.
Or my manly aroma of aged Virginia pipe tobacco.
With a hint of something naughty.
That being Perique.


In any case, the waitress from whom I requested 柱侯牛腩飯 ('chü hau ngau naam fan') and a cup of hot milk tea was bowled over by my ordering it in her language. I'll grant you that's a bit unusual, because white guys being able to sound like an office worker on Mody Road aren't, strictly speaking, standard away from Kowloon.

I know how she feels.
Boy howdy.

When I got home, my apartment mate, a woman of pure Cantonese ancestry who lives in the other bedroom, was happily singing vaudeville stripper tunes while fixing herself a snackipoo, plus a wedge of chocolate banana cake and a big glass of milk. Women, very often, tend to shy away from high fat and cholesterol stuff. If they're of East Asian genetic stock they also usually have a measure of lactose intolerance. And most women haven't a clue what ecdysiastics are and do, or what songs are natural to the field.

She also does show tunes. Happily and horribly.
Do not ask about Valley Of The Dolls.
Good Gouda almighty!

[By the way: There is no Book of Ecdysiastes in the Bible. Perhaps there should be.]

Sweet little Asian flower, quiet and shy? Hoohah! Yeah, that is not the case. Yes, she is of delicate build. Fine boned, not tall. In a previous life she was probably a grave robber or a gangster queen dealing ferociously with opponents. Of course when I threatened to inform her Teddy Bear (oldest friend in the world) about the unseemly singing, she blanched.
There are some proprieties which must eternally be maintained.
Ms Bruin still thinks she's sweet and innocent.

I dread the day she discovers karaoke.

The world ain't ready for that.


She isn't, strictly speaking, standard.



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