The Multiplely Loose Girl

BN, JN and I were seated in the red semi-circular couch. I had just completed my round as the "Blueman"; and I was still in my suit of blue, sipping my cup of coke. BN was next to me, directly opposite JN, who was stroking her big golden retriever and looking resplendent in a wild spiky hairstyle.

We were engaged in a light conversation. I found out that BN (a not-very-good-looking caucasian) was a podiatrist, and he had vast experience serving sportsmen in the Olympic Games. He was born in Montreal with blood originating from a French lineage. Speaking in fluent American english, he was spewing sophisticated adult humour like a walking joke-book.

Then across the room at another table, there was Renee, a Filipino with hair longer than five MacDonald straws tied together, and in clothes no more modest than what you would see J Lo in when she is on the red carpet. She caught the eye of BN.

So started the flirting.

"Hey girl, talking with your boyfriend?"

A smiling Renee hanged up her handphone, walked over to BN, and placed herself next to him on the couch. I had to shift inwards to free space up for both of them. Perhaps I had freed up too much space - two adults would require less space if their bodies were closely apposed to each other. His hand was around her waist, and her hand was on his thigh. This familiarity was quite unexpected.

And there was rubbing and some smooching. Our light conversation earlier had ended rather prematurely.

I left trying to guess the connection between Renee and BN. Renee was just smiling and providing physical stimulation while BN was reciprocating, whispering and stealing opportunities to kiss the "bride". This wasn't prostitution. It didn't seem so because there wasn't talk of price and these two fellows were not strangers. There was enough intangible evidence to suggest that Renee was indeed having a sexual relationship with BN - and this was NOT an exclusive one.

There are girls like Renee in my country - foreigners, single (maybe not), and working on a very low pay - trying to hook up with susceptible men. Single caucasian men, elderly men whose wives have died, or even men who love illicit affairs - the easy targets of these girls. They might have hidden agendas - to find someone to financially support them; to find someone to love them and become their husbands; to find someone to engage them with some "animalistic fun". Whatever the agenda is, the bait in the fish hook is SEX.

Sex is a universal language - the african in Congo hunting down a tiger everyday knows it; the chinese in Hangzhou hanging up newly-dyed silk knows it. The act of sex is not very much of an offense. But the thought behind it, the lust that goes with it, and the inappropriate reliance and addiction to it, makes sex abominable. The offense is so much more amplified when it's applied to a female.

It becomes as if the girl has opened all doors to a sanctity that is very sacred:

"Come see the circus. Join the fanfare! Any man, any person who looks remotely like a man, who likes women and who has spare cash to make my life comfortable and less wretched, please enter!"

Under such circumstances, Love becomes marginalised and humoured at. Only Love could truly make the most advanced Intimacy legitimate. The circus ought to be reserved only for that someone special . Why give the fun to a person who would not respect and treasure you? A man should only watch one circus in his lifetime; and a woman should only have one seat and one ticket to her circus.

The Han Jing Pang Stall

There were just 2 female customers when I fixed my attention on the Han Jing Pang Stall. Directly translating "Han Jing Pang" would give you something like "Salty Deep Fried Pancakes". Well, strictly speaking, they don't at all look like the pancakes you get at Macdonald's; they are hollow balls of dough that contain sweet red bean paste on the inside and are deep-fried till they float to the surface of the oil - after that, these hot balls are scooped out and seasoned with some salt and peanut powder. They make great snacks, albeit a little on the unhealthy side.

Something strange went on at this stall. The old man, the owner of the shop, was busy making the raw dough balls. And, one of the customers, a lady in red shirt, was holding a long pair of chopsticks and stirring the wok dilligently. On closer observation, this became more absurd. The lady was actually deep-frying the dough balls herself! So she stirred those worthless balls and waited patiently for them to float up. As soon as that happened, she waived some magical chopstick skills and picked each ball up one after the other. An assistant at the shop gathered the newcomers, dipped them in the peanut powder and salt and threw them in the big brown bag.

One, two, three, four, five, six and seven. Seven pancakes for $1. The lady paid for the pancakes and went off. Soon, a queue built up. Five men and women took turns making their own pancakes and paid for pancakes made by themselves. The mood at the stall was calm and controlled, and the way the pancakes were made reminded me of the factory production line - one caps the toothpaste, and the other puts the tube into the box.

I can't imagine why someone would want to buy food made by themselves. I wouldn't. I came out for a meal because I didn't want the hassle of buying raw materials at the supermarket, and then going home to cook them. I also didn't want to spend precious time washing up the dishes after the mess of cooking. Now, I am going to pay someone to allow me to cook? This isn't some sort of steamboat or barbeque shop! It isn't in any way exciting to be stirring some dough balls and waiting for them to float up. The heat of the oil would just soak my shirt in grease and sweat.

Then I realised why those people wereputting up with this crazy concept. There was this green certificate on the wall in the stall:

"Best Food Award 2004"

This unhealthy snack - a deep fried oily chinese pancake - is "Best Food". Best food?

That old man is certainly very conceited. Just because he makes the best Han Jing Pang, he orders his customers around. This is called opressing with power; just like what Hitler did to Germany and the world. Someone give me an atomic bomb. This old man needs a lesson from America.

The Recipe For Beef Stew (revised)

Lets forget about intellectual analysis and make some food for the brain! This recipe is not for the complete idiot but for someone who has already had some experience in cooking.

Ingredients:

1 - 1.5 Kg of Beef Cubes (enough for 4 people)
Celery
Carrots
2 chillies
Ginger
Garlic
Pepper powder
Vinegar
Wine (Red or White)
Dark soy sauce
Light soy sauce
Sesame oil
Canola cooking oil
Corn Starch
Dried orange peel
Broth

1. Put 4 tablespoons of canola oil into a wok or big pot and up the fire to medium. Remove the seeds of the chillies, cut them coarsely and stir fry in wok with sufficient garlic and ginger. Fry till the chillies turn dry and emit an irresistible smell.
2. Then add the beef cubes (about 3 cm by 3 cm by 3 cm each) and stir fry in high fire till the meat is nearly cooked.
3. Add 2 tablespoons of vinegar, 2 tablespoons of wine, 2 tablespoons of dark soy sauce, 2 tablespoons of light soy sauce, 1 tablespoon of sesame oil, 2 tablespoons of sugar, generous dash of pepper. Mix and cook in slow fire for 5 minutes.
4. Add 2 cups of broth, dried orange peel, 1/2 cup of wine, 4 tablespoons of dark soy sauce, celery and carrots (cut them into big pieces) (you may add more vegetables of your choice).
5. Stew this in slow fire for at least 2 hours (not more than 4 hours! It will become dry).
6. Optional: Add corn starch to thicken (this is standard chinese cooking knowledge).
7. Serve with rice or pasta.

Have fun! And do give me feedback about this dish.