Tuesday, March 20
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HOOOOK You Up Yo
It's been quite some time since I've written a post about my parent's conspicious ways of introducing me to girls. My dad will almost take any opportunity he can get and my mom always does.
The other day we were out to talk to administration about the West One Condo (confirmed for September, yipee) and met up with a good looking Chinese girl who was the coordinator. She was tall, thin and elegantly fashionable, someone you could see slung on the arm of a young successful Chinese businessman. While she was explaining some legal jargon my mom quite suddenly, in her harsh, strict vietnamese accent, said,
"Where you from?"
"I used to live in Hong Kong."
My mom nodded her head slowly like it was actually a rhetorical question.
"That's right."
As if there ever was an answer that would have been wrong.
"Hong Kong... Yes, because, you know, you are very -- have very, beau-ti-ful skin."
Yet, while my mom was saying this, she was looking at me. Why was she complimenting her but looking at me? Stop looking at me and more importantly, stop nodding at me too. I wasn't going to verbally agree with her even after 200 nods.
The coordinator gave a whisper of a whisper of a smile and said, "Thank you." My mom had given her cheese cake when she's had cheese cake all her life. She was about to continue talking about the condo when my dad said, "We went to Hong Kong recently."
The coordinator's mouth parted, she looked interested and asked, "Oh really? Which part?"
My dad answered but also leaked in, "...after we visited my son in Japan," looked at me and nodded.
Should I have been nodding too? Was nodding their sordid version of hot potatoe and it was my turn to say something?
The coordinator turned to me and smiled. I smiled back. Yes, this is me. I am getting used to this. She asked about Japan etc... etc... I answered etc... etc...
My dad later on added for good measure, "So you are who we can contact? You are in charge of our case? Please give my son, Joe, your business card."
LATER ON IN THE DAY
We're about to close up the office but a group of people came in who my parents knew very well. After examining them my dad invited them to come out to eat. There, of course, was a girl my age there also.
At the dinner table my dad initiated the action, "You know Joe taught in Japan."
The girl asked me some questions from her seat and I answered. She was quite pretty and seemed very nice. My mom picked up the nod hot potatoe from my dad and added "Yes, haha, they are the same age so they like to talk same things." Nod passed to my father, "How can you talk over the table like that, you can't hear each other." Mom. "I will move seats."
Later, probably thinking it would be instant BINGO my dad said, "You know Joe made a video."
Joe: "Noooo" I turned to her. "I don't know what he's talking about."
Disaster averted. Patted myself on the back: quick thinking, deny everything. Thank you, X-Files.
Somehow the conversation moved to how thin she is, weighing just under 100.
My dad did a deep barrel laugh and outstretched his arm, across the table and over the dishes of food, and pointed at my forehead. His arm was unwavering and blocked everyone's view of anything, and any eyes were forced to follow the length of his arm to the tip of his finger and eventually to the object of its' view: me.
I saw the freight train coming, but I was tied down to the tracks.
"Joe is the same. Joe weighs the same," followed by the orginal deep barrel laugh.
"Nooooooooooooo. I am heavier than that. I am. I am."
I felt many sets of eyes on me -- shock, pity, curiousity, amusement, a mixture, maybe all.
He finally threw me some rope by adding, "Okay, maybe 114."
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