About Nude Not Naked

~ Crazy Thing Called Love, Queen




Coffee With My Lawyer
I went out for a date with my lawyer to discuss a legal matter. We agreed to meet up at 11 a.m. and he was there punctually. I was there a little earlier because I am a punctuality freak. My lawyer and we have been friends since I was a wee child (okay, I was a teenager then). He watched me grow up, from wearing dorky Sunday church dresses to a full grown woman today. Oddly we never really went out together, although I meet him often for legal advice.

He sat across me with his arms crossed. He smiled and got straight into the matter at hand. Crossing arms is a sign of defence, I thought to myself. I noted in my heart that the meeting would yield its usual conversations – about my business, my parents (since he provides legal advice to them too) and perhaps my generally development. Crossing of arms meant that he was careful with his words and he would not tell me anything more than necessary.

I bought my lawyer coffee for the day. It was the first time that I did so. We have never been out together, outside his office walls. It was about time anyway since he has taken care of me legally speaking since the day I started work and kept me sane through the tougher times. I even told AB that he should call my lawyer to bail me out, if ever the police raided and I was sent to squat outside of a police station. Thankfully that day never happened since D kept me well informed and AB rushed me out of raids 5 minutes before they happened.

After some time, my lawyer opened up a little more and we started talking about our private lives. How we met and we are REALLY doing these days, which meant we talked about the not-so-polite details of our daily lives. It was quite intriguing the life my lawyer led. He asked me some questions eventually and for once, I felt quite smart. Usually I did the asking and my lawyer answered. This time around, he asked me questions that I am all too familiar with – relationships.

There is no 100% foolproof formula for a relationship. There are far too many variables involved and that is what makes relationships so maddening when we are frustrated and satisfying if we managed to nurture love. Some girls like it coy, where they reply your questions ambiguously and you are left to decipher what they meant.

Personally I am not one who would beat around the bush. I like to get my facts straight and strong. I do not enjoy playing games and going round in circles. If I like you, I will let you know. If I do not like you, well you will also know that within the first few minutes of meeting. I make no effort to pretend to be what I am not.

And when I deal with men, I expect the same from them. Nothing can be worse than a man who cannot even express his thoughts and desires well. I have no respect for sissies. I make my business decisions like a man and I expect a man to behave like a man. Do not attempt the “one day hot, one day cold” treatment on me. I belong to the category of women who actually will rush into your office, lock you in it, pounce on the table and on you and ask, “Fucking hell, just tell me. You like me or not? Don’t fucking play hide and seek with me.” The one thing I detest in men is indecision. I told you, I like my men strong, sharp and straight to the point.

So when my lawyer asked me how should a man gently let a woman he is dating know that he likes her but is not ready to marry her right that minute, I said that he should just be honest with her. I would have appreciated, “you know, I enjoy your company. I think I like you quite a fair bit, so I would like to see more of you. We can go out and discover if we are compatible. What do you think?”

Most likely my answer is a “Hell yeah! I am not interested in getting married too!” if I quite fancy the man as a lover.

Honestly I do not think girls should murder a man for wanting to date but not ready to commit. I will freak out if a man I date plans our wedding three months into dating each other. I will seriously freak out.

Instead of feeling offended, I will take it as a compliment because the man is comfortable enough to be honest with me. At the end of the day, I want honest communication in my relationship, not one that is based on pseudo reality.

However the world is not perfect and not all girls enjoy an honest answer. How do you tell a girl that you quite like her but not enough to marry her this instant and not get butchered in the process? I am a girl and I haven’t got a clue. Do you?




A Burst Tire
My tire felt bumpy on the way back home. I stopped my car by the side of the car amidst heavy rush hour traffic. I walked around the car, observing each tire and they looked normal enough although I knew a bumpy journey home on a non-bumpy road was not. I held onto my steering wheel a little tighter, as I had the uncanny habit of driving like Bob Marley on high at neck breaking speed.

A little bit more, so we can do this, I thought to myself. Now there would not be a story if I got back with all four tires intact, now would we? 200 meters and the right hind tire burst into a hardly audible “poof!”. Cars drove pass, drivers pointing at my flat tire. Ya lah, ya lah, I thought to myself. I signalled to the left and parked it by the roadside. Took out my mobile to contact my father but decided at the very last minute to just drive back home. Slowly. My father would have asked me to drive home anyway, so I did.

My father changed the tire while I was checking my sitemeter statistics last evening. An email popped into my mailbox and I laughed when I saw the photos my Swedish Love sent me. He looked gorgeous, more good looking than the day when I kissed him good bye in Stockholm Airport four years ago. His second photo tickled my funny bones. “Here is a photo of me semi-nude, in return for your bikini photos,” he wrote.

And there was the photo of him standing with flexed arms, showing off his toned abdomen and beautiful face. He wore a pair of his usual white cotton boxers and in a way, he could rival a Calvin Klein underwear model. I smiled.

“Look babs, Henrik sent me a series of “look what you are missing” photos” I wrote to Alex, then describing how gorgeous my ex boyfriend looks at 33 years old. I hate to think how Swedish Love will look when he is 60 because he would be too good for his age. Damn, look what I am missing.

“Is your ex-boyfriend still pining for you after all these years? Or did you send some “look what you are missing” photos before his? He must be a really tidy person to stay in a 54sqm apartment. Your clothes and shoes would have driven him to break up with you the following summer.” Alex wrote back.

Swedish Love has a new love now. She is tall and blonde. They share a cat and live in the apartment that was meant for me. Sometimes I do think what would have happened if I did not meet Alex and continued living with Swedish Love. I imagined I would have been happy residing in Stockholm with him, having fabulous breakfasts in the mornings and picnics in the summers. Maybe I would have had a child by now. Who knows?

I showed my father the series of photos. We sat down at my writing table and stared at Swedish Love’s photos. “You know what a perfect man would be?” I asked my dad. “It would be Alex in personality and emotions and Henrik’s body,” I said then gave a long sigh. My father nodded quietly.

Coincidentally Swedish Love was with me the last time I had a burst tire. Ironic and foretelling?





The L Word
R and I have been going out quite regularly these days. Perhaps we both feel lonely and each other’s company was welcomed. I have been helping him in the pass two weeks, to finish the collection of 1600 t-shirts for a Polo club. Am still waiting for the day when my eyes are not too swollen to ogled at the Polo players riding their studs hard. Therefore it came as no surprise that R and I sms-ed each other a few times a day these days.

Here is a short transcript of our sms conversation

• Otto: When are you free? I am bored here lah.


• R: Hey, you like the rich people arr. Treat me as entertainment. Ha ha!


• Otto: Who is treating who as entertainment? I love you as my friend and you take me for granted. You think I am terrible, horrible blah blah blah, which is NOT TRUE. If I so bad, why are you still talking to me?


• R: You are such a cutie. That’s why I love you.


• Otto: Eh I am sulking ok.


• R: Sulking, huh? Tell me earlier. Force me to use the L word. Just as long as you are happy, I am happy.

It is quite difficult to squeeze the L word out of men. Alex hardly says that he loves me. Ever. Even after all these years, he would muster a “I am quite fond of you” or “I like you lah.” Somehow men and the L word are not compatible. Men are just so apprehensive when using the L word. Why ha?!

However men must realise that us womenfolk are a tender bunch and we like to hear the L word every now and then. Especially on hormonally charged days, such as last evening when Alex was so far away, BestGuyFriend is with Nikki (no more entertaining me) and R was busy delivering t-shirts and uniforms to hotels, hospitals, offices and banks. Leaving poor Little Miss Otto, unloved.

Now for the girls: Here is a little tip. Never ask a man for the L word when you are about to have sex. Do not ever equate L to sex because men will do and say anything for sex. Including uttering the L word. Actually even a dinosaur will say he loves you, if you offer to drop your skirt and bend over. But if you do want the quantity of the L word and not too bothered for the quality, then ask him if he loves you just moments after you flash a little flesh. Ask him three times more before you let him take a peek in your skirt and a few more for good measure when he is trying to tear the blouse off you.

Okay time for me to go and fish for some L words. This time from Alex. He should be accessing his mailbox anytime now. Bye people!




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