doc 2002

We call her Bing Bing

There's a little restaurant across the street from the hotel that I stay in, that always seems to do a good job of catering to us. So, we go there. We get this little room, and this little Chinese girl stands there, and looks after our meal. They're all programmed, you know. Kind of like computers, progammed to do what they've been told to do, and completely unable to think for themselves. They're responsible for the set up and maintenance of the table, which, if you haven't figured out already, I've taken the responsibility for completely making a mess of. The dish goes there, the little cup goes here, the chopsticks go on the chopstick holder, the napkin gets folded under the dish and lays on your lap, and everything, so primm and proper, has it's own little place, which it has to stay in.

I don't eat that way.

To me, the food goes from the dish to my mouth, and to hell with the rest of it.

It all becomes very comical after a while, as I move things away from me, or, put things where I want to have them, as I spread out over two seating places. The little girls, all around 18 years old or so, eventually slide over, ever so gently, and try to, oh so discretely, put things back where they should be.

And I, of course, move them again.

Now, some of these girls, are just basically horrified of me as it is, mainly because they've just never seen a guy as large as me before. The shaved head probably has something to do with it also. So, the response that I get at the dinner table from these girls, is highly variable. Some, will return, ever so slowly, to try to rearrange my eating place. Some, just kind of stand in the corner, and watch me, wide eyed, as I constantly drop shit from my fumbled chopsticks into my waiting lap. When I leave, I usually have a bunch of rice sticking to my thighs and my crotch, which, I just leave there, much to their amazement. You just never know when you're going to get hungry in Shaolin.

Let's face it. I terrorize these poor little girls. And most of them love it.

Especially Shao Hong. Now, Shao Hong was quite unique among the girls that worked in this restaurant, because, not only did she constantly rearrange my eating place, but, because she yelled at me while she was doing so. I haven't the slightest idea what the hell she was saying, but, the chopsticks went back over there, and she yelled at me in some sort of incomprehensible Chinese. I know she was yelling at me, because, I've been around far too many women in my life, not to know when one is yelling at me. Hell, they all do, at one time or another. Ah, Shao Hong was great. She gave me shit, and she wasn't afraid of me. I had to rearrange my eating habits just to keep her happy.

Shao Hong stood out in other ways; not only did she not put up with "doc shit", but, she had breasts. Rather large ones for a Chinese girl. Large to the point that she didn't wear one of those usual padded bras. Now, that bra, well, that's another story. It provided me with many hours of entertainment. For, not only did that bra contain some very wonderful imagined flesh, but, that bra, had little animals printed on it. And, through Shao Hong's white shirt, one could barely make out these little animals, which were imprinted all over those lovely little curves. My Chinese friends, once I made mention of this little menagerie that I certainly wouldn't have minded becoming part of, thought the little imprinted animals were elephants. Hell, they certainly did look like elephants, but, I just wasn't sure. To me, they looked like rats, but, hey, I'm from New York. So, I made it my mission, last year, to find out, what those little animals were.

I started messing up my eating area. I just had to get a closer look.

She kept rearranging my plate, and, for being bad, she started whacking me on the head with chopsticks.

I tried, and I tried, and I got beat, and I suffered. But I never, ever found out what those little animals were. This trip, the restaurant changed the uniform, to something with a vest and coat, and the lovely little bra that we all enjoyed watching during dinnner, disappeared from our universe forever.

Oh, the pain.

But it wasn't to last for long. Bing Bing was quite the other story. For, once the uniforms changed in the restaurant, I felt slighted. And, there was no reason to terrorize Shao Hong anymore. So, one day, when we entered the restaurant, I picked another. A rather small girl, with very long and very thick black hair, all bundled together, all hanging down to just below her waist, with a cute little face, and a completely nondescript little body, all hidden by the damn new uniform. I looked at her, gently grabbed her by the shoulder, and said "Come on. You're feeding me".

She came. And, she became our new waitress.

Her name was Bing Bing. Kind of had a nice ring to it. I'd walk into the restaurant, and yell, "Bing Bing!", and soon thereafter, all the girls in the restaurant would start running up and down the hallway, yelling "Bing Bing". It was quite comical. And then, she would appear, two small slits for eyes, and a faceful of teeth. Sweet little girl she was, not really representative of what her name described her as. "Bing" in Chinese means, "ice". "Bing Bing", means, well, "pure ice", or, "ice cold", a moniker more representative of some of the women I've dated in the past, provided that the term "bitch" was appended to it. No, Bing Bing was pure sweetness and love. She always brightened our day.

She always enjoyed when I walked into the room, because, she came to expect every word that came out of my mouth. I would enter the room, look at her and the other helper girl, and say "Xi Gua! Xi Gua, NOW!". Which, meant, I wanted watermelon. I always like to eat watermelon before the meal, as opposed to the usual, after. It rehydrates me, and fills me with the necessary fiber to keep things, well, moving, something you just have to think of at my age. Again, having watermelon before the meal was out of the sphere of the typical programming, but, after a while, they got the point. So, I'd walk into the restaurant, put my cap on Bing Bing's head, and she'd dutifully follow me into our little room, at which point I'd say "Xi Gua now!", and, she, in her dutiful little way, with her slanted eyes turning into tiny little slits as her face turned into one huge smile of rare beautiful teeth, would say "Mei yo", which means, we don't have any watermelon. And I would turn to her, as she was still wearing my baseball cap, and I'd say, "Xi gua!", because, I wanted watermelon, and, because it was the only Chinese words that I could pronounce correctly.

But, there just ain't now watermelon in November. There's snow, and there's cold, but there ain't no xi gua.

The routine continued every day. "Xi gua NOW!" "Mei Yo" (smile). "Xi gua, xi gua, xi gua!"

I never got my watermelon. But, I did get little Bing Bing.

Bing Bing and I carried out this little lovely relationship, where I would yell xi gua at her, and where she would turn into slits and a smile, for many days. She was 16, and I was, well, let's see, hmmm, well, if I had lived my life in a normal fashion, like everybody else in the world, she would be younger than my daughter, if I ever had one. Hmmm. OK, so what. Perfect. We carried on our little go nowhere affair, for many days. Many, many days. And I knew, that there was a little place in her little heart just for me, just as there was a little place, in my burnt out and ripped apart little heart, just for her. But, it was never to be, and I knew that. So, I told Lu Yong, who, is a bit younger than me, that he should go out with her. "Yong, marry this one". Yong would reply, "She's too young".

"We'll come back in two years. You know what, the hell with you, I'll come back in two years..."

So much for planning. It became the usual doc's little world once again. One day, I noticed, that she noticed, that I noticed her noticing Lu Yong, who, always sat at dinner right next to me. Bing Bing became Lu Yong's little love affair, I became unnoticed, and I ate, undisturbed, "sans xi gua", and with rice in my crotch, for the rest of the trip.

And to further round out my day, PS got pissed and stopped talking to me. Not that I understood her anyway.

Doc's world continues. Nothing changes. More to come....