"So, are you ready to drop your pants?"

Have Love, Will Travel (2)

Her studio was quite a messy affair. The walls were nailed with art pieces of various sizes; brushes, pencils, water-colored boxes, papers, and other painting materials were scattered all over the floor, tables, and chairs; and a wooden easel displaying a half-finished oil painting on a canvas stood in the middle of the hall. On closer look, the painting was of a naked man, his back facing front, sitting on a stool with his arms resting on his knees as though he was watching the world go by. The part where it showed his butt was not done. Was Suet-foong waiting for the right butt ... my butt ... to complete the picture? I winced at the notion.

"There is an art fair at the Peace Hotel in May," she said, going into the kitchen located at the back of the shop to replace her chopper. "I'm fortunate to be allocated a space there to present ten of my paintings as buyers and art dealers from all over the world will be attending this once-a-year event. So far I've done nine. The picture that you see on the easel is my final one. I hope my works can sell; I've not sent any money to my parents in Xi'an since last October."

"Are you their only child?" I asked while putting my knapsack on an empty chair.

"No, I have a brother who is two years older than me. He works for chicken feed in a textile factory. To make ends meet, he stays with my parents. I am the rebellious one. When I was eighteen, I left home to seek my fortune here. That was four years ago."

She came out with a cup of hot Chinese tea and passed it to me.

After taking a sip of the beverage I said, "Seeing you in dire straits, I reckon that you have yet to find your pot of gold?"

"My situation is not as bad as you perceived it to be," she replied, looking rather upbeat. "At the moment I have brown gold stored in buckets inside and behind my toilet. But mind you, their smell can be nauseous, you know what I mean?" She then guffawed like a tormented jackass.

I looked at the brown liquid in my cup. Suddenly my tongue developed a funny taste toward the drink.

In a wink of an eye a table in a corner was laid. There was a plate of cookies, a pot of Chinese tea, and another cup for her. We then sat on the stool facing each other. Only when she drank her tea did I feel safe with mine.

"So, are you ready to drop your pants?" she asked, gazing at me with great interest.

I anticipated her to throw that question at me and this time I was well prepared. "No problem, I will show you my butt if you show me yours," I smirked, but of course. After my tit-for-tat reply, I was cocksure she would drop the subject all together.

How wrong I was.

"Oh, I was not aware that you are an artist as well," she said.

"I am not. I am a hundred-percent liquidator and mighty proud of it."

"In that case why do you want to see my butt?"

"Because ... because ..." I faltered. Damn! She got me there. Not knowing how to field that one, I decided to throw in the towel. "Look, let's forget about what I've just said and move on to another topic, shall we?"

She looked cross-eyed at me. "You're a dumdum, you know that?"

"I'm not!" I objected. "For your information, I am actually good-looking and brainy."

"No, no, you have it all wrong. I am good-looking and brainy."

Okay, okay, perhaps I was not that good-looking in her books but I would not let a girl - even one with a terrific bottom - dubbed me a dolt. That was bad for business.

"Oh yeah?" I sneered. "Give me one good reason why you are so darn brainy."

"Sure," she replied confidently, "I wouldn't let you make love to me."

"Ha! The thought never even crossed my mind ..." I paused. Now, what imbecilic urge made me blurt out things like that?

She gave a short, derisive laugh. "So, now you know why you are a dumdum." 

To be continued on Sunday ...