Original Publication Date: Feb 04, 2009
Today is promising. A family the Grandmonster has known for many years is coming by to visit. Now, I’d like to think they’ve stayed in touch because the wicked one used to tutor their two sons, but I suspect it has more to do with the family owning several factories in China and being rather affluent than anything else. Like a moth to a flame or me to Best Buy, the Grandmonster has an ever-persistent tentacled suction cup on the buttocks of the wealthy. The nice thing is that despite this, the family has always been very good to me. They’ve included me in the gift giving during the Chinese New Year and have even sent things back for me during years when I’ve been unable to go abroad.
The irony here is that they understand and seem to accept that which the Grandmonster never will. The mother even asked her once if Pookie and I were a couple. The adamant denials left marks in the floor and wall to say nothing about what the air pressure did to the poor mother’s hair. Still, they’re not stupid, at least not as stupid as the Grandmonster would prefer them to be. And I like them.
I met their youngest when he was about 7 and he’s now 15. Last time I saw him, he was 12, had no interest in anything other than his video games and was developing into a bit of a snarky little sod. Time has been good to him, however, and the teenager he’s emerged as is the epitome of politeness, kindness and good intentions. The scary thing is that I’m of the age where I’m old enough to be his father. I swear, just the thought made a gray hair pop up.
We all enjoy a delightful lunch, exchange gifts (I make sure to bring something for them when I come over) and then part ways. They seemed a bit rushed with the Evil One and it isn’t until later I find out that they’d already been over twice before I arrived. It’s no wonder. Subjecting oneself and one’s family to that much dark matter will eventually have side-effects.
Last minute shopping is next and, as always, the Grandmonster springs a few last minute items she wants to have us pick up for her and possibly install, arrange builders to install or otherwise return when she gets it home and realizes we were correct and it wouldn’t work anyway. I suggest pushing her in front of a subway train, but the glass blockers make that impossible and Pookie is giving me the evil eye. Despite her despicable ways, he does love her. It makes me realize he’ll always love me for mine. He’d better. He’d damn well better.
So he and I finally make it out later that night and I’m troubled by three things; the Taiwanese Tart is still the main topic of conversation out of the old woman’s mouth, I’ve realized I’m old and I still haven’t bought conditioner for my hair, which looks like shit. My gay card could be revoked for hair like this. But we hit the stores nonetheless and Pookie strikes up a short conversation with a worker in one of them. She is surprised he speaks Cantonese so well, then glances over at me and asks him “Is this your father?”
I am unimpressed with her observation.
And yet the horror doesn’t end there. We have lunch with Grandma’s dentist the following day. It’s the last meal we are forced to attend in order for her to show Pookie off. I’ve met this dentist once before and found him to be quite charming and even biting with his comments (he once insulted Pookie’s brother to his face and that endeared me to the man ever since). We also unanimously think he’s gay. The dentist is married, however, and has a daughter, so what do we know? The man also doesn’t remember having met me before and after looking at Pookie, then back at me, he wonders out loud “You’re not his brother…are you his father?”
Twice in 12 fracking hours. You have GOT to be kidding me.
I immediately purchase some conditioner just after lunch and right before we go to return all the aforementioned items the Grandmonster insisted we buy that we told her wouldn’t work anyway. She is nothing if not consistent. Oh, and the Dentist made sure to ask if Pookie was married yet, then looked over and asked me the same question. I guess I’m technically not married. After all, Pookie informed me we weren’t, so I tell the man “I don’t have time in my schedule for a relationship” since it now makes me seem like I’m married to my work. He goes back to work on Pookie and again I’m unimpressed.
Look folks, if someone has reached the age of 35 and 38 and they aren’t married, show no desire to be married and brush off your kind suggestions of setting you up, leave it be! It’s obvious you don’t know the whole story, wouldn’t like the whole story if you did know it and you certainly don’t need to be crawling up our asses looking for the answer to a question we have no intention of answering. But it’s a cultural thing and I digress. I’m tired, cranky and apparently old enough to have a 35-year-old son now as opposed to a 15-year-old son.
Daylight come and we wanna go home.
Kage Alan is the Mercenary For Justice watching, Edwin Wendler listening author of “A Funny Thing Happened on the Way to My Sexual Orientation,” “Andy Stevenson Vs. the Lord of the Loins” and the first book in a separate series, “Gaylias: Operation Thunderspell.” No, he didn’t watch the Olympics. No, he probably won’t watch the Olympics. He watched the Absolutely Fabulous episode of the Olympics and that’s about as close to them as he’s going to get.