Sunday, November 05, 2006

Tales from Taipei: A Pussy Story

Pussy was confused.

Right from under the piles of unrewarding rubbish that she was rummaging through, she was certain she had heard the call for her, and had immediately crossed the road to the rows of dining tables arranged along the walkway of the busy Xi Men Ding shopping district, and in the midst of her enthusiasm, nearly got run over by a flashy beamer on the way to hell.

But now, while she looked up intently to the source of the call just a few seconds ago, she was merely staring into rejection and disappointment. Her growling stomach signaled her to meow for attention and assurance that she had not heard wrong, yet only the faintest squeal broke through, drowned now in a fresh burst of laughter triggered by perhaps a joke told, not just by anyone, but by the one diner who had fished her out from the rubbish dump.

Before her extended presence attracted spurts of water or shoos from the rest of the crowd, she would need to leave the table and head back across the road again.

But she kept her ears propped up helplessly, for she would ran across again as soon she was called.

Never mind the rejection.

Friday, November 03, 2006



A thundering supersonic boom, started off as the most innocent rumble, rose into a tidal wave of epic proportions, and came rushing towards me. Traveling at the blinding speed of light, it started about 20 feet away, right from the entrance to the men changing room, rapidly picking up magnitude and force, past the sporty tai-tai browsing a pathetically aging collection of VCD titles at the lounge, and a group of giggly Bodyjammers waiting at the glass door to the studio, before finally hitting me.

I thought I went into an immediate cardiac arrest.

Fighting to contain the rapid spread of immobilization of my limbs due to the abrupt interruption of oxygen-rich blood flow, I maintained my composure and started turning my head sideways, left and then right, then left again, in a faithful and hopefully convincing act of searching for that illusive lady who seemed to have ignited such passion and excitement in the Bodyjam instructor this evening.

Unfortunately I had not seen the last of the paralyzing display of public shame. I might as well have been paraded around wrapped in a rainbow flag. (But then most Malaysians are too ignorant to know what that signifies anyway.)

“Come on, Lolita! Jam it up, Lolita!”

I would need to twist my limbs out of their sockets to jam any harder, that is if the staff had not come to escort me out on suspicion of designer drug abuse, yet the encouragement was incessant, strikingly crystal clear against the dizzying beat of the cardio through recovery tracks.

It must be the sleeveless tee I wore today.

“I noticed you normally don’t shower one. How to cruise you like that?!”

The aftershock resonated against the walls of crowded changing room, bouncing off the wooden lockers and reaching the furthest and most remote corners of the steam room, the toilet cubicles and the shower stalls. And I was promptly administered a pinch on the left arm.

Then there was a suffocating dead silence, and I saw an uncle dropped his fresh underwear.

“Oh! Have you met Michael, er I mean Michelle already? By the way, where is your sister ah? Still jerking off in the showers ah?”

The uncle seemed to be having some trouble putting on his underwear.

“Ah! You please remember to come for my pre-Christmas class ok! The theme is going to be RED and WHITE! I promised the gals already! What? Wear this ah? Can la! Just wear the top with white underwear.”

I picked up my phone and pretended to make a call, while rapidly strategizing an escape plan.

“Boyfriend calling is it? What? Mum waiting for you for dinner ah? Ok lah, see you next week ok!”

The uncle finally managed to pull his underwear all the way up after executing a few balancing hops with one leg in the air.

I pretended to be shy while passing by him.

He’s kinda cute, I hope he’s gay too.

* All names have been changed to protect the sisterhood's integrity.
* 'Pecah': A Malay word that means 'Broken'. Used widely among the gay community to refer to the disclosure of one's homosexual tendendies, intentionally or otherwise.