Working. Weekends. Visits. Zara. Knee Sex.

Old News. I work like a whore.
Latest News. I work like a whore's whore.
So much for that eh.

It's Friday. I've got a visitor from my old city from the Upper East Side of the Noodle Kingdom. To keep her anonimity, lets call her Lily. Lily Hernandez (of course not her real surname) arrived at the Beijing Train Station last night and will be staying in the Big Smoke (which is suprisingly boasting of clear skies these days) for a coupla days or so. She needed a break, she says. I was willing enough to be the gracious host. I miss the bitch.

Lily has been to Beijing so many times that she lost count and interest. The reasons why she came to Beijing were

1. To see me and catch up
2. To go dancing with me
3. To visit a gay club
4. To take a picture of the Olympic thingamajig place which is near my apartment (about a 20 minute run to be exact)
5. To go to a gay club (yeah she's that desperate)
6. To buy something at ZARA's

Now, reasons 1-5 were doable and shit, but reason 6 was like, what's a Zara?
She was like, "It's a clothing store. Spanish. Nice. Expensive sorta but not much."
I was like, "OK, where is it."
She was like, "Let's Google it"
(my apologies for using the word LIKE too much. I just like using it. LIKE SHIT YEAH)

It turned out that Zara was this sorta swanky something clothing store thats located in this swanky something mall located at the business district in Beijing which they call THE PLACE (like whoa) that boasts of the largest ever TV screen in the whole wide world (so they say, still gives me a stiffed neck when i look at it).

So we went to Zara. AND DAMNIT I'M BLAMING LILY FOR THE PURCHASES I MADE! The hat was just way too nice and the top was cheapfordable ($11). I'm never shopping with Lily ever again. Ever.

So I made my purchase, whilst Lily was in the fitting room trying to force herself into a size 4. I decided to take a smoke break.

While I was smoking, two Chinese dudes (one dude and one dudette) approached me. They were asking me if it was OK if they could take my photo. I was like, "What for." They said it was for some fashion magazine. It brought tears to my eyes, I tell ya.

I was wearing a Vera Wang gown, $5 flipflops, a $10 Armani pig print top, a $4 pair of shorts, a T-back, A hot pair of Jiimmy Choos, a pair of $2 sunglasses that I bought in some Chinese market, and a pair of and 5 NO 4 NO 3 2-day old boxers. What is this world coming to? I figured I'd go along and shit. So I made my best Zoolander pose (not really but you know what I mean). After three clicks they said thank you and I did tell them to at least smudge my face a little if I was on the WHAT'S HOT WHAT'S NOT page.

Anyways, I went back to Zara and found Lily proudly fitting into a size four. I was like "Whoa dude, yer boobs and yer ass look bigger."

She bought the shit and we went shop hopping. Good thing I got no more money so yeah.

We were too dirt poor to get a cab so we took the subway. On the subway we started to have knee sex. I have this annoying habit of tapping (or shaking or whatever) my left leg while I am seated (like in church, commodes, hospitals, gay clubs, drug busts, peacekeeping missions, cultural attache meetings and shit like that) and while I was doing that thing with my left leg, my knee was disturbing Lily's knee. So she asked to stop fucking her knee. And that's how it started. 8 stops and my knee was still doing her knee. I almost came.

I hate Beijing really.

It's all superficial.
fleeting.
impersonal.
mundane.
transitory.

But I love my Zara top.