Monday 12/1 – Tuesday 12/2/02              My Friend Arrives, I Eat A Bee

 

            My old high school friend Avani was visiting for the week.  As soon as we stepped into the apartment we were welcomed by my leaky ceiling—the cardboard they fixed over the hole was swollen and dark in the middle with trapped water and looked ready to explode any second.  I freaked and even though it was late, called the superintendent Mr. Ho who said he’d look at it tomorrow, but I insisted with panic in my voice that he come look now.  He said he was embarrassed because he’d just been drinking and I was a lady, but I didn’t care.  He came in all flustered in a wife-beater, his face flushed and smelled of smoke and booze.  He looked at it and rambled a lot that I didn’t understand but finally poked it with a knife and water came pouring out.  He brought a huge metal tub over and placed it underneath as the trickle slowed down to a steady dripping, and said to just let it drain overnight and they’d fix it tomorrow.

 

            I was so incredibly pissed.  It was worse that I had a friend staying with me, even though Avani wasn’t bothered and probably didn’t understand why I was so upset, but that’s because this had been going on for so long before she came. 

 

It dripped all night and I couldn’t sleep.  Since Avani takes forever and a lifetime in the bathroom each morning, she got up extra early so I could have the bathroom when I needed to get ready for school, but I couldn’t sleep once she was up anyway.  I’d given her maps and guidebooks last night, and I’d thought she could step outside and hop on the MRT, or hail a cab and point to the map, “Take me here.”  But she seemed somewhat scared/clueless and I quickly deduced she’d be needing more hand-holding than I thought.  So I suggested she just come with me to school, wander around that area and come with us to lunch, then with me to work to see the CKS Memorial and things nearby.

 

That evening we went to Snake Alley; it was my second time this year and at least my fifth time in my life, but Ginger’s first time ever.  I knew she’d have a ball taking pictures here; but I forgot at the Mutilated-Fingers-Guy’s place there’s a big sign saying “No Taking Picture” and at the Tall Skinny Girl’s place she shook her hand at Gin when she saw her holding up the camera.  We watched the girl put a big cobra into a glass case full of chicks, expecting them to be gobbled, but they just hopped around contentedly on the snake’s body as he laid there lethargically.  Yawn.  So we tried waiting in front of Mutilated-Fingers-Guy for him to start the show, but he didn’t talk.  Walking down more I made sure to point out to them the disease photos at the miracle cure Chinese medicine booth, and the perverted keychains of people/monkeys/horses in all different positions with strategic hinges that create realistic thrusting movements.   Ginger was quite excited at this find and took advantage of the price deal immediately thinking of tons of friends who would appreciate them.  What kinda whacko perverts does she have for friends?  And what does that say about me, being one of them?

 

 As we turned around and walked back, Mutilated-Fingers-Guy was starting a show, but Avani refused to watch.  We met Jonathan briefly as we ate noodles at a cart; he told us to meet him and his friends at Indian Bar.  Avani commented he had the straightest teeth of anyone she’s ever met.

 

At Indian, we met him at a big table with his friend Mike visiting from Hong Kong, a fellow Jewish friend who lives in Taiwan, a college bud visiting from the US, and Niclas.  They ordered some food including a dish of battered deep fried bees.  Yes, wings legs and all.  On some the batter was thin and you could make out the stripes.  We girls all collectively “Ewww”ed while the guys chowed down and “Mmm”ed.  “The best part is feeling the stinger!”  they said.  Somehow that just didn’t convince us to partake.

 

I’d been on and off the phone all day about the apartment leak.  When I’d gotten home, all that was different was that the entire cardboard covering was off, exposing the huge hole again.  Water was still dripping into the tub.  So when I left the table to answer another call, I returned pissed, downed a beer and declared I was going to eat a bee.  Everyone was amazed since I was so adamantly opposed just before.  The moment was photographed of course and just like they said, it tasted like deep-fry, no biggie.

 

Lucky we met up with them because Niclas invited Avani to join him and his mom tomorrow to the National Palace Museum, and Jonathan volunteered to take her out two days, to Tamshui and MauKong mountain for tea.