October 21, 2008

• Stop staring at my butt!

   

  So the other day The Franksabunch™ and The Wife™ were walking through the mall and we decided to drop into MetroPark (I’m always looking to add to my Affliction collection).  Just for kicks she asked me to try on a pair of True Religion jeans so I went into the dressing room, exhaled, sucked my belly in like a contestant on Paris Hilton’s new BFF and pulled up the jeans.  I came out of the dressing room and tried to be ninja about it, but the moment I stepped in front of the full-length mirror, 2 young, attractive wahines who worked for the store swooped in for the kill like pharm reps at a surgery conference.

   

  They stood behind me (positioned at 9:00 and 3:00) and one of them said, “Wow, I really like those jeans on you!” while they both stared at my, uh, butt.

   

  Now anyone who has been following my xanga since its nascence knows that I have a complex about my butt…or rather a lack thereof.  My butt is flat.  So flat that when I turn sideways I become invisible.  Flatter than Roseanne Barr’s rendition of the national anthem.  And like I’ve said time after time…flatter than the world before Christopher Columbus.  I was irreparably crushed years ago when lying prone next to a girl I liked—just watching TV, nothing else, Mom!—she turned her head, peeked at my booty and yelled out, “damn, Franksabunch™, you have a flat butt!” 

   

  Anyway, I have always felt that my Bisquick Butt was my worst feature, so to have two young wahines staring at it felt awkward.  In fact, I came this close to blushing.  One of them waited for me to try on the second pair and followed me around the store, asking if she could hold the pants for me or do anything else.

   

  I had no intention of buying these jeans (heck, all my Taiwanese ancestors would turn over in their graves and flash a peace sign minus the index finger if I bought a $268 pair of jeans!), but with these young, attractive wahines telling me how good I looked in them and following me around the store I felt almost obligated to pretend that I was………..so I did.  I asked The Wife™ within the earshot of the employee which pair I should buy and when said sales girl wasn’t looking I put it back on the rack and ran out of there like a cat in a Chinatown restaurant.

   

  I explained that I was trying to be polite but she shook her head and accused me of falling victim to the attentive guiles of a young woman.  “Wow, even my husband is guilty of being a man!” she said.  (Needless to say, I then took her to a nice restaurant for dinner and let her order whatever she wanted.)

   

  Is that true?  Do all men turn into mice when subjected to the conjuring affections of women?

   

  Another day I needed a haircut so we tried out this barbershop next to a Korean market we frequent, and though I thought I was paying for a simple $13 cut-and-move-your-butt experience, they took me to a dark room, washed and conditioned my hair and gave me a head and neck massage…twice!  With all the attention they paid me I felt obligated to tip more than usual.   Bamboozled again by those nefarious women!

   

  But is it just a simple matter of men liking the attention of women or is it rooted deeper in the earthen fabric of what it means to be human?  When I was a 1^st-year medical student I met an elderly patient who lamented to me about how she didn’t have anyone in her life that cared for her and when I placed my stethoscope on her chest, she reached up and placed her hand over my hand over her heart and closed her eyes like someone embracing a long-lost loved one.  I didn’t think for a second that she was being improper in some perverse way…just that she felt so unloved in her life that she yearned for a few seconds worth of attention and the touch of another human.

   

  We all feel the need to be significant in someone else’s eyes and sometimes that which lies within the space between love and trust is a simple act of kindness.  Don’t underestimate the power of a gesture of compassion, friendship or affection because what may seem to be a few seconds to you may fulfill the needs of what someone else has been waiting years for.

   

  So when faced with the choice, always choose to reach out to someone near you…unless it’s a sneaky wahine trying to get you to buy $268 jeans!

   

  Have a great week!

  ——-

  I may not always agree with Obama’s political views, but I wish his grandma the very best and a speedy recovery.  Maybe I’ll run into him on the street on Thursday, eh?

   

  Edit: Nice piece by Kelly Tsai.  For something not so serious (especially for you MMA fans mourning the fall of EliteXC).

  • 11:16 am
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