Guest room, sweet guest room.
-Stop it! You're scaring her!
-I know!
-That's not good!
-I know!
(keeps on shooting at the dog with his GI Joe tank. Dog cowers in my lap, tensing her tiny Jack Russell muscles as she wonders just how much intermittent abuse she is willing to put up with in exchange for a life of complete and utter laziness and luxury.)
Ahhhh... ten year olds and their dogs. Particularly dogs like this one-- my dad's little Jack Russell, dubiously monickered ChaCha, who wears a pearl necklace and daintily crosses her paws while sitting on her embroidered silk pillow in the sunshine. She rules the household and has even wormed her way into my heart enough to prove that not all small dogs are the runningmates of Satan. This one is quite tolerable-- catlike, even.
So, somehow defying the whims of fate and air traffic controllers, I have managed to wend my way to the fine city of Seoul, for this [sob] last visit before my father's family moves to Hong Kong. Tough life, I know. I am doubly impressed with this visit, because not only did I arrive at the same time as all my baggage, an event that has not happened in roughly four years-- I kid you not-- but also I managed to meet an unsavoury Canadian while still in the airport. Ahhh... what would we do without skeezy men? This charming gent struck up a conversation with me while I sat quietly reading my book, disturbing nobody (Nabokov's Despair if you are curious-- quite marvellous thus far) and persisted in discussing:
- "You know, everyone who comes to visit me always wants to go to the strips clubs. Montreal is quite famous for its strip clubs."
- "Italy? Are you like... down with the Mafia and stuff?"
- "I just love travelling in Asia... it's so great to be able to get away with all this stuff, just 'cuz... you know... the police aren't going to mess with a white guy."
- "Japanese people can do so much... I was in Tokyo once, and they were doing this dance... it was like.... Jamaican... or like black American.... and yeah... they did it really well, even though they were Japanese..."
- "Yeah so... you should give me your number... y'know, in case you need country info or something..."
- "Oh these roses? They're for the girl I'm meeting... (long pause, blushes, stutters) My girlfriend, I guess....So uh, who're you waiting for?"
Ugh.
2 Comments:
Teaching English in Korea is the only way for socially undesirable North Americans to get laid. True story.
Hey, I'm in Japan here, go easy on my ego :-P
Also: Despair was the first Nabokov I ever read. Oh, and I just bought Transparent Things!
Post a Comment
<< Home