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.