Last Friday I left Portland to go to Queens. It was a trip I had been looking forward to for some time: not just because it was to be the first time I got to see my parents and sisters in months (which was great), but also Portland has been wearing on me a bit. Not in a particularly overwhelming way and nothing even close to the extend around the holidays. I just needed to get the fuck out of Dodge for a few days.
I got myself a super phone, one of them Droid jobbies. A belated Christmas present from my sisters. I decided to name her guakbot, jr. after my beloved laptop, guakbot (yes, sans caps). She's juniorbot for short, though it isn't shorter at all. I had been using a prepaid phone, a "burner" as Stringer Bell would call it, that I had snapped a SIM card into so I could be on my sisters' plan. That was about four years ago I think. It came with no bells and whistles, unless you count a calculator and an alarm clock as extravagant, and that was just fine with me. But the thing was getting old and not working as it should some of the time: taking several attempts to make a phone call or not being able to send or receive texts. And then the battery started to go. It was time to replace the gadget. Enter juniorbot. This girl is pretty awesome. I never had a phone with a camera and the internets and that could play music and videos and music videos. When I upgrade I fucking upgrade!
I spent a lot of the time walking around Flushing, a big reason was that my family spent a good chunk of time watching NCAA basketball. Yawn. Flushing is predominantly a Chinese neighborhood, with lots of Indians as well. Caucasians certainly are in the minority, which for a white boy who has spent most of his existence in Maine, a place that dukes it out with Vermont as the whitest state in The Union, took some getting used to. But it's pretty cool. I like having about 6-8" of height on almost everyone else. The signage is interesting, the Chinese alphabet I've always liked. It also helps that I most certainly have a "thing" for Asian women ("yellow fever" if you will). I saw so many Chinese ladies. It was great.
So I did a lot of walking around taking in the sights. It gave me an opportunity to try out juniorbot's camera capabilities. Some of those photos I will post on Facebook in the next day or two.
Sunday I woke up at 7:30 in the morning. This, as many of you might suspect, was pure agony for yours truly. But my parents wanted to hit the road back to South Carolina by nine or so and wanted to take their spawn out to breakfast before they left. We at some diner that billed itself as "the original pancake house." Our waitress wasn't particularly friendly, which my family bitched about, but I appreciated. I enjoy Flo-like "kiss my grits" sass from my servers, especially when I'm at a diner. I ordered a plate of silver dollar pancakes, advertised as ten in number. What I got was a mound of fluffy delight, definitely more than ten. So I counted them. Sixteen! Sixteen motherfucking silver dollar pancakes! Bushwa! Damn, that place rocked!
Later on in the day I was strolling through Chinatown and on two different occasions I was propositioned by women offering "special" massages. I politely declined, though one of the ladies I had to reject three times before she finally left me alone. But then I got thinking: while I may not want to pay for a handjob, a legitimate massage might actually be nice. I've never had one before, but I hear they're fantastic. There must be legitimate masseuses in Chinatown, right? So I was approached by an older Asian man. This was our conversation:
Older Asian Man: You want massage?
Guak: From you?
OAM: No, from Chinese girl.
G: Is this one of those special massages?
OAM: No, not special.
G: How much?
OAM: $30
G: Yeah, okay. Let's go check it out.
Older Asian Man grabbed my arm and led me down a side street and into a business with a sign just in Chinese. I paid my $30 and was led into a tiny room. Two of its "walls" were just curtains. A sign of the wall stated "no eroticism of any kind." a super cute Chinese lady (OAM wasn't lying!) came in and asked if I wanted it medium or harder. I decided fuck it, let's do harder. So she did. Driving her elbows, knees, and heels into my back. Pinching the hell out of my neck. Pulling my arms back and karate chopping them. Pulling my fingers until they pop. All the hype I had heard about massages was true. I felt euphoric.It is the best sensation I have felt in a long time. It was pure bliss.
I walked back to my sisters' place and had just enough time to pack and scarf down some Chinese food before Ashley drove me to the airport. I bought a pop and boarded the plane. We left at 9pm.
The pop's carbonation made me burp like crazy. The smell of Diet Dr. Pepper and Chinese food made me gag a little.I hope the guy beside me smelled them too. Mini-Bible-reading jerkface.
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