oh woe

a 'hai'ku:

my first white nose hair,
which means quarter-life crisis,
is now official.

Willi Veli Happi

Ok, obvious lesson learnt today: Stuffing your face with food does not cure horniness.

Just ate two whole Ramly burgers. And not just any Ramly burger, but 'the Ramly double special' burger with two layers of meat each, wrapped in fried egg with cheese and the works. I seriously feel a little ill right now as I type this, and wonder if I should just pull a Mary Kate (or is it Ashley?) and stick a finger down my throat.

As I try to keep my meal down and put, I mentally administer some self-scolding as I wonder: Why do I keep doing this to myself? (Sorry Carrie.)

But even as I ask that question the answer inevitably rears its all too familiar face...

...

A month or so back I was driving home after a late night out with some friends. Feeling a little peckish, I thought I'd stop at a nearby 7-11 and pick up one of those little pre-packaged buns (the corn flavoured one is my favourite) to stave the gurgling beast. This was way after midnight.

It just so happens my friend lives in the Taman Tun area, so I stopped at the 7-11 which I remembered was there. The one near the IBM building.

As I was walking towards the 24-hour store a smell wafted across my general area. A delicious smell of sizzling meat (I can never resist meat - of any kind, as you shall soon see, tee hee).

So I turn around and before me was one of those ubiquitous Ramly burger stalls. All Malaysians will recognize them. They have been around since time immemorial. As a kid I used to love eating them, until I grew up and someone told me what the burgers were made of.

I was going to turn around and head to the 7-11 when the owner of the Ramly stall moved from behind the shelf counter and I caught a glimpse of his face...

You know that movie 'The Beat That My Heart Skipped'? Have you seen it? No? Well neither have I but the title - cliche as it is - pretty much comes to mind what I felt.

Standing there flipping the flippin' burgers was a really really really cute Malay guy. Not to sound too Zoolander here but REALLY REALLY REALLY REALLY... REALLY cute. Short cropped hair, a faint goatee, a boyish grin, brown skin but not too dark, and the real clincher: he was short.

Yes, I have a semi-fetish for short handsome men. To me it is such a dichotomy. How can handsome men be short? In the movies and books no heroine ever yearns for her SHORT, dark and handsome knight, right? This is why I can only pretend to dislike Tom Cruise. Secretly he makes my willi veli happi.

Anyways, back to the story at hand. I found myself in a haze as I almost unconsciously floated over to the stall. RRRC Guy looked up and smiled at me. By now whatever verbal eloquence I usually possess has been reduced to monosyllabic grunts and gurgles.

"What would you like, bang?" he asks me in Malay.

"Uhm..." I replied.

"Would you like the double special? You look hungry."

"Uhm... ok."

"How about your girlfriend? Maybe you want to buy one for her too?" he said teasingly.

"Uhm... ok."

"Would she like a double special too?"

"Uhm... ok."

"So is it both beef or chicken?"

"Uhm... chicken."

Seriously, aside from it being in Malay, that is how the conversation went, verbatim. Seriously.

By then RRRC Guy is giving me this look that I still choose to interpret as a 'oh-so-he's-the-strong-silent-type-that's-cool' look. He gave me another smile that made my willi VELI happi and set about to work.

So I stood there and mentally slammed my head against a concrete wall repeatedly as I urged myself to say something witty or friendly. But nothing came (although I'd loved to *chortle* *chortle*), so I just stood there and watched his beautiful brown hands (with fine beautiful veins running up each of them) work their magic as he placed the patties on the pan, toasted the buns, spread the raw eggs in concentric circles and then wrapped the meat patties in them. It started to drizzle a little so I stepped closer under the umbrella. Things were calm and the weather was cooling and I totally had a Wong Kar Wai moment where I had this whole monologue in my head as I daydreamed about what it would be like to spend the rest of my life with this beautiful man.

Suddenly from the corner of my eye something snapped me out of my reverie. Next to RRRC Guy was this young Malay kid who was busy chopping vegetables. RRRC Guy chided him in a fatherly manner about how he was chopping them wrongly, and I sighed.

Oh well, I guess this is as close to foreplay as I'll ever get.

So I paid for the burgers (our fingers touched and there was a spark I swear) and left. He thanked me politely as he watched me get into my car. His kid waved as well.

I have been back often since then. And everytime the same thing happens. I just cannot talk when I'm in his presence. What is it about attractive people that just brings out the giggly schoolgirl in me? And in truth it is not a physical thing. More like an essence. Some really physically attractive people do nothing for me at all, but a cute guy with a friendly disposition can turn me into a stark horny mad man. I swear to God I have had wet dreams where I swipe everything on his stall off the counter ala Hank Azaria in Friends, throw him onto his sizzling pan, tear off his clothes and make sweet passionate love right there by the streetside (talk about 'hot!').

And I don't even really like the burgers fer chrissake...

...

Excuse me while I go throw up.