Phrasebook section: dating and romance, subsection: classic rejections
– “I’m sorry but I’d rather not.”
– “I’m here with my boyfriend/girlfriend.”
– “Stop hassling me.”
– “Excuse me, I have to go now.”
– “I’m not interested.”
– “I think, I’ll be very busy in this semester because I’m a freshman of university. As you know, there are so many school events every freshman must attend in their first semester, such as, freshman seminar, OT, things like this…
So maybe I’m gonna rarely have free time in this semester.”
Yes folks, she broke my heart — but that was last week and I’m over it now. Even that time having lunch I knew it wasn’t going to work. I mean, favourite movie: Mrs.Doubtfire??? — and studying economics…? Plus there was the ultimate reality that she just wasn’t any fun. I think a lot of people here don’t know how to have fun.
I knew this guy who lived in candy st Westgarth, and after several failed romantic endevours had found a central thread, that being Motorhead. None of these women had ever heard of Motorhead. So his gate-keeper was uttering the band title, Motorhead. If they didn’t know what he meant it was end game. It didn’t matter if they loved, loathed or were indifferent to the band — but at least something.
The other day on the subway I noticed this young woman in business clothes sitting on the other side of the way. I watched her get a bible out of her bag, flip to the end section and read. I’d like to take creative licence and say it was to Revelations, but I know better than that – and there’s probably some boring stuff at the end because of the new testament. I couldn’t help but grin mischeviously at the situation. She looked up and it became a staring contest — I won easy. Point is, what’s the point reading that thing if you can’t smile back? That collection of whacked-out novellas is fast becoming a red rag to my horns.
And all those christians can sit and spin because I’m wif a crew now. The monk came around today and we went shopping. He calls me Mr.Wocky and I call him Mr.Monk. He gets Rah-spect everywhere he goes – people bowing and doing the hands-together praying-thing. He showed me where this close-by, hidden supermarket was, but apart from that I pretty much know how to shop.
Then we strutted back to da Temple, and man, sure I’ve only been here a month, but I’ve never seen a pad as swish as that before in the whole country. Like, he had a huge AV unit – big tv and a whole bunch of stereo stuff, all these nice plants, a big picture of a lion, leather couches and the place was really really roomy.
This woman made us coffee and at first I thought maybe she was the maid or somfing, but I think maybe she is his wife — so I dunno – I didn’t think zen buddist monks could have wives, but maybe the SK version is different. The coffee was pretty damn good, considering the national standard. And they gave me a big bag of rice.
He’s got this bracelet of big wooden balls as big as eyes. And great taste in hats – mostly greay beanies, which go well with the monk outfit, but also a brown beret, one of those artist ones that looks like the top of an acorn with the twig-bit. I’ll have to ask him if he’s tight with the dalai lama.
Later on we went cruisin’ in the Lexus to E-Mart to catch up wif some of the homies. Some of them work there. Mr.Monk gave ’em lollies. I bought cheese-singles which is about the only sort of cheese you can get at the supermarket, and it’s that deep-orange american-style colour (why? cheese doesn’t come out of a cow that colour). And I got some more household goods — utensils. I now have everything needed to make pancakes. I’m pancake-capable.
We had 30cent cones and then dinner at da food court. Zen, baby. Zen.
I got the cable tv on. It was actually way down on the list of priorities, but easy to get sorted, so. The internet guy came and try as we did, we couldn’t convince him to at least install the fucker and give it a try. He was cheery enough (from KTF) but kind of froze when he saw the iBook. There ain’t nothing but PC clones with WinXP here. Which means I have to keep coming to PC Bangs, which means I might as well have taken up cigs again ’cause they’re so smokey. I install Firefox on every machine I sit down at.
PS. That guy I mentioned – the founder of the school – is 95 years old. I don’t think I ever shook hands with a 95yo, let alone in a work situation.