Bought and Paid For

Some friends and I took a Saturday morning to explore a university we had never been to before. It was during the recent Middle Autumn Festival so no one had to work and the streets were comparatively empty. It was quite a ride and all uphill. We asked for directions at a small seamstress shop. The woman was very nice but spoke only the local dialect. The man who was having his shirt fixed was very helpful. We mentioned we would eat lunch before going to the campus and he proceeded to lead us to a little noodle place where he bought our lunch. He is a retired police officer and before that he was a soldier. When I asked if he liked his work, he said no, it was too dangerous and he was glad to be out of it. I think since he paid for our lunch, he thought we were now his property because he would be at our side for the remainder of the day. He showed us around the area and led us to the campus, another long walk. He had a scooter, a cute purple one with a pink helmet. I asked if it was his, thinking he had borrowed it from his daughter. No, it’s his. He smoked heavily and at one point when we were looking at pictures on a billboard, he accidently blew right in my face. It was the first time I have ever smoked. I starting coughing, gagging, dry heaving and my eyes were watering. He was so sorry and stamped it out immediately, but I am pretty sure he reduced my life span that day. It was so nasty! He spotted some girls coming by on the other side of the road and called them over to meet us. They ALL spoke English! We asked for a tour of the campus, and thinking that the guy would leave, told him thank you and goodbye. What were we thinking? We were bought and paid for. So off we all went to the girls dorm. Only then could we leave him, since guys aren’t allowed in. The girls , six of them all sleep in the same room. Three bunks on each side with a table in the middle full of books. The bathroom is down the hall and reeks. The girls were all very sweet and so excited to meet foreigners. They wanted to show us around so off we went with our loyal pink helmeted companion. Obviously he had been asking about me and was determined to get my phone number. My friends told him I was married to a Big Black Man, but that didn’t have the effect we were hoping for. He even followed us out of the campus and most of the way home, making sure to ride right next to me. One of the girls did give him my number and later on he called me. I let Frank answer the second time. He hasn’t called since. Guess he didn’t believe I was really married. He’s been married four times. It was an interesting day.

“Sold!”

mandy