never shit where you eat lest flying becomes frying.

what do the natives call those long sharp machetes

A certain Mr Hun lives in my neighborhood. A good man. A very hardworking man who asks nothing of life but to be merry and to provide for his family.......... His family: a hot-bodied wife and a spoilt brat of a son. Mr Hun was the kind of man who gets all excited at the very sight of a foreigner; smiling toothily and perspiring. He runs a small food stall stuff store somewhere in Phnom Penh.

His wife could have been a model. But plain boring. She spends half her time at hair salons and the other half in front of the mirror. And the kid, 8, was an annoying little thing who whines all day like a little girl. You can't yank him off of the TV. He's always there, watching MYTV drama and moaning.

I was invited to dine with the Huns. I was actually surprised to see Samba, the Chihuahua, still in its leash. I thought it must had gone the way of typical dogs here; and also thought it would have made a real delicacy while at it! I went up the steps and before I could even ring the doorbell the door was opened from inside by, oh no, wifey! Seeing that Mr Hun was nowhere in sight I gave her the warm Western greeting- an engulfing hug and a quick peck on each pancaked cheek. This, of course, as I knew it would, put her off balance and momentarily dazed. Where's Mr Hun? I asked casually. In the bathroom, she said; she seemed to be confused, unsure what to do. Probably spraying some breath-freshener into his prohok-staled mouth, I thought wryly. I've known him since I first came here a few years ago, the kind of guy who would welcome you with open hands even though you've been friends for 40 years.

Mr Hun stumbled into the living room, half bowing half doubling, both hands extended below big teeth.We said how do you do. We sat at the table as wifey set the table for dinner. Mr Hun called to the son to say hello to me. He waited for the commercial before walking up to me and asking, dangerously: ' Are you Youn? ' Now if this kid is not a trap I don't know what is. This wasn't the first time I had been confronted with this meaning-packed question from the locals. I suddenly realized that the atmosphere was now rigid, as if in some kind of suspension…….

The wifey dressed provocatively in a white tank top that hung above her belly botton and, by modern standard, was showing too much of her bossom. Each step she took around the table was accentuated with a sly swing of her rear side. I don't want this kind of temptation, I thought. On the TV an actress who looked like a naughty artist's sketch was crying in the rain. Her nose, having obviously survived many doctor's knife, was way too long for her Michael Jackson’s alike face. She looked comical. It occured to me that dramas were always about tears, sadness, losing someone, male dominance. And it bothered me to think that children would actually grow up injecting this kind of melancholy.

Dinner was good. Of course there was none of the rotten stuff they usually eat on the table; none of those worms, none of those minnows they usually have with its shit and all. Everything was ordered. Mr Hun, eager to show off his proficiency in Spanish, started telling me the Spanish word for everything he set his eyes on. That was maddening. He was also into showing off his Mexican mannerism, doubling over every now and then and saying, with short breaths, ' EeeSpine! ' Again, it occured to me that everything the Huns do they take it to the extreme, right at the edge of insanity. It's a good thing drugs are not a commonplace here (well not where we are anyway), everyday would have been comedy on the streets! I once made the mistake of giving my phone number to some Mormon people I met at a street corner. Holy Crap! They almost drove me nut calling every thirty minutes, calling in the middle of the night, with their cute bikes waiting outside to take me to their church until I threatened to call my mates upon them if they come anywhere near me again. Looking at Mr Hun now, I can't help but conclude that the rich and powerful are some nut, theytake everything to the edge of
insanity.

I caught wifey's eyes a couple of times across the table and she seemed to be undergoing some kind of change which I couldn't place. The noise she was making was sickening. Of course she tried to eat like a lady, picking on her food like a bird, the way they usually do when they are eating with someone. How can someone look like a princess and act like a farmer's wife? When wifey got up to get some water from the fridge Mr Hun leaned over and confided, in a conspiratorial tone, that Viet girls were hot. I didn't know what to say to that. We weren't that close. I knew him. That was about it. He straightened up dramatically when wifey came back with a bottle of water and said he'd be going back the next day. He sounded as if he couldn't wait to be away. So, I asked, when did you come back? Yesterday, he said and went ahead to tell me what bottled water is in Vietnamese

I had to take my leave. I stood up. Son still moaning in front of the TV. I felt sorry for him. It wasn't hard to see what kind of a man he'd grow up to be: a nervous, emotional wreck. Mr Hun walked me to the front door. Wifey behind him. He did it again. He doubled over, I was a little amused, his wife, you could tell from the look on her face, thought it a little belittling. Just as he was rising from his bow, and just as I was about to cross the threshold, in the sly, she gave me a wet wink!
Or, did I imagine it....

You never cease to amaze me!

btw, I reckon the wink was for real.

Username Taken wrote:You never cease to amaze me!

btw, I reckon the wink was for real.

As much as the story was.

I wrote it. Prove it otherwise my man.

as I was about to cross the threshold, in the sly, she gave me a wet wink!
Or, did I imagine it....

Maybe the wind blew a spec of dust into her eye.

Pics of hottie? I think you'll end up with the Mister H.

Milord wrote: I think you'll end up with the Mister H.

Yeah, that's probably why the dude kept bending over.

But if FC wrote that, it is a fine example of interesting writing in his unique style. He should consider contributing more on CEO like that piece.