Kinda funny how a few days ago, when I wrote a lonely piece about being solo, my Capital Hill (in DC) friend Mary Mac opined, 'you won't be alone for long'. Well listen here, I'm still alone, but I do have a few stories to tell. It's the first time I've felt the desire to censor myself when sitting at the blog, as I am coming up with some nervous energy about not wanting to 'kiss and tell' and other similar conditioning. Christ, I live in Eugene, OR, which is the fucking capital of political and other correctness, and I regularly get in trouble for opening up my mouth in ways that the locals find offensive. We had a slogan there for awhile, 'world's greatest city for the arts and outdoors', which was kinda lame (not to mention incorrect and vainglorious). Then there was some kind of competition to come up with a new slogan. How bout, 'Eugene Oregon... you'd better watch your mouth'
Have I mentioned that joke about how when the New yorker says, 'fuck you', he means, 'it's all good', and when the Eugenean says, 'it's all good', he means 'fuck you'. It is strangely true. Oops, some of my women readers might not like the masculine pronoun. Let me correct it... When the New yorker says, 'fuck you', he or she means, 'it's all good' Better? This is what has become of me after 28 years in Oregon. Don't worry, it's all good :-)
So I'm hanging out in the bar (been doing a lot of that lately, but I don't drink and don't smoke, so it's not debauched like it is for an awful lot of folks here). The waitress is looking fantastic tonight, there was a going away party for some regulars, so she wanted to dress up a little for the party. Meanwhile, she is a phenomenal worker, tireless, totally on the ball, keeping my water glass filled even though she's doing a million other things to keep the customers lubricated and taken care of. As things were quieting down after a great party, I complimented her on what a great job she does, and that I really appreciate it. I wasn't sure of her knowledge of English, beyond 'check please', so I asked if she understood what I said. Oh yeah, she did, but when she said something back, her English was pretty hard to understand, so I asked her to repeat it. We got into a casual conversation, me speaking slowly and clearly, and trying my best to understand everything she was saying.
At one point I said something and she replied 'kiss me'. I looked at her funny, as it was totally out of the blue, so I said, 'what did you say?'. She said, 'excuse me', but the way her mouth tripped over the dipthongs, it came out, 'Es kiss me'. I made a mental note of it, and we kept talking. Turns out she's a petite, super cute 39 year old woman who was born in Bangkok, the ninth of 10 kids born to a Chinese mother and Chinese/Thai father, so she calls herself 70 % Chinese, though Thai is her language. She is an ambitious person who has always wanted books, even when she was a kid and there was no time or money for books, that's what she would always buy with any money that she had.
She studied English and earned an 'intermediate' grade on some placement test she took at the consulate. She can read and write (quite proudly, as a large percentage of the Thais working the tourist trade can only speak the language, rather than be able to read it). We had a really nice talk, both of us enjoyed it, and I was starting to get a little vibe going. It felt kinda natural in that I had no intention of hitting on her, as I assumed that she must be married or hooked up, but no, she was single. Apparently she had been with some English yoga teacher dude for about five years in the early 2000s, when she was practicing yoga 5-6 hours a day.
More recently, she got trained as a nurses aide and worked a few lousy years in the hospital, hating the people she worked with, because they wouldn't tell her important things that she needed to know for patient safety and stuff like that. I got the impression of a nasty bureaucracy in which the folks above you wanted you to fail, so they could keep their positions or their twisted sense of power. She was making lousy money, hating her working conditions, so she bailed after a few years and has been working bars and restaurants since. And damn, she's awesome at it. All of the customers adore her, and she gets it done.
We talked about maybe getting together during the daytime for a little one on one English/Thai interchange, in which each of us could add to our knowledge. She was very into the idea. I hope it happens.... maybe on Sunday, her day off. As the night wore on, I kept hanging out, we kept talking in between her rounds, and yeah, something was happening. I asked if she came to work on a motorcycle, which is fairly common here. Nope, she lives around the corner. I offered to walk her home, just to have at least a private moment, as our whole interaction was playing out in public. OK, sounds good.
By the time the party was over, and the last person had left, and the dishes were washed, chairs stacked, stuff put away, it was 4:30 in the morning. What am I, in college? I'm never up that late. We took off around the corner and were at her place in 5 minutes where she stopped to unlock the gate of the place where she rents a room. I figured a hug goodbye, but then she invited me in. Hmm, would that ever happen anymore in Oregon? I guess it would, but not in my circumstances, seemed totally foreign. Oh yeah, that's right, it is foreign.
Her place is a one-room cold water flat, a chair, a bed, a fold up stand that serves as her table, a leaky faucet, a bunch of books tucked into various corners and shelves. I didn't notice a kitchen or burner, but I wasn't really studying the decor. The place was kinda disheveled, but there was no embarrassment, no 'my place is a mess' uptight vibe. No comment whatsoever, and I certainly didn't judge anything. It wasn't too different from the way I'm living. Just a place to lock up your stuff and sleep. And here I am, suddenly in the presence of a really attractive Asian woman who has invited me in at 4:30 am.
Oh man, my internet time is running out, I guess I'll have to cut this post short. You believe me, right? Shoot, it's like American Idol, when that human hologram Ryan Seacrest says, "And the 2011 American Idol is...... (pause)..... coming up right after this message' (Seacrest Out!)
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