Buy one get one free

I don’t know about you but I am a sucker for a bargain and anything free is like a wet dream.  My all time favourite is those buy one get one free offers, henceforth referred to as BOGOF.  I know cos I had the pleasure of working briefly for Tesco whose tentacles appear to be ever expanding into the furthest corners of GB.

But I digress.  Hong Kong, the shopping heaven of Asia, if not the world, is embracing this Prodigal Daughter with open arms.  I am very lucky to encounter BOGOFs at every turn.

First I have already told you about my DIY enthusiast landlord.  Well he comes free with the rent.  I only have to text to say the air con has broken down or I am housebound because all my clothes in the wardrobe are damp from the crazy humidity and he’ll wave his wizard wand and voila comes up with a solution.  And every Sunday late morning the trouble shooter for all things domestic appears like clockwork.  Big Ben eat your heart out.  If ever I became senile I’d know it is Sunday.  

No job is too small.  Oh the window lock doesn’t close properly, no problem, just a matter of positioning, out comes the right tool and hey presto fixed.  Your standing fan is impersonating the Tower of Pisa out comes the screwdriver.  The air con is not cold enough due to the open plan design and wasting my electricity.  Answer: concertina pvc door in front of kitchen, wooden blinds installed on the stairs down and for the piece de resistance sticky light brown transparent paper on the lounge window panes to block out UV light and glare.  The air con concedes defeat against this Master and is pulling its weight again.  And to save me from being arrested for nudity he has bought a thin heated rod which is fixed to the back of the wardrobe.  Yippee the sun has got his hat on and Gorgeous can come out to play!

I am starting to feel pangs of guilt.  I may be taking advantage of his passion for his hobby a bit too much so have offered to treat his elder sister and him to Dim Sum.  He immediately said yes.  Now this is not the local custom.  You are supposed to say no pretending that you wouldn’t dream of wasting my dosh.  So now I’ll have to keep my word, as once it is uttered you can’t catch it back even with the swiftest horses.

Then there is my beauty therapist/counsellor rolled into one.  The young lady who does my weekly facials not only has soft gentle hands but a wise head and a kind heart.  Lying on the treatment bed covered with blanket as there is nothing wrong with their air con she listens to my tale of woe for the hundredth time while applying stuff on my ageing and sometimes teary face.  For one only in her mid-twenties she is, bless her, awfully patient and compassionate.  Even with my face buried under this and that I can’t hear her sighing or sounding frustrated.  On the contrary she is a very good listener just throwing in the odd pearl of wisdom amongst the verbal diarrhoea.  Last week the saintly therapist finally forbid me to talk about the divorce.  Whenever I suffered a relapse she’d remind me.  I think she is fed up of my tears ruining her peels.  I know it is for my own good as every time I talk about it I relive the pain all over again.  Other times I am happy as Larry, providing my own BOGOF service, that of a customer and stand up comic.  Even the ladies in the general store downstairs have got in the act, especially my adopted God Mother, a sprightly lady in her 70’s who is always behind the till.  She is my number one fan.  Every time I have finished my facial, she gazes intently at my complexion with a wide smile and approve the work in progress.  Then the other cheer leaders will chirp in and I leave with my Feel Good Factor topped up.  The leader of the pack once said I looked 38; I’m going to adopt her for sure.  I love her. 

Then there are the middle aged ladies of the local supermarket.  They are the oracle on all things domestic; like how to get rid of giant black ants or where to go to buy a rare item.  They have yet to fail me.

Finally there are the lovely staff and boss of my favourite cafe who have taken the stray in and keeping her from harm.  The owner has offered to be my PR manager out of the kindness of her heart.  She is a sharp business woman and a formidable negotiatior.  She must be otherwise she would not be the boss of such a large and popular establishment with 40 staff for the two shifts.

Buy one get one free.  Love it.

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About cho wan yau

Teacher by day poet/writer by night. Words have been my first love and will be my last. As a child I locked myself into the toilet devouring books which transported me to distant lands. Poetry shared penned from 2009-2010 in a titanic struggle to stay sane at Heartbreak Hotel. Please check it out on chowanyau@wordpress.com. Any comments or feedback welcome. Why not share your story with me, because we all have one, don't we?

Posted on July 21, 2013, in Uncategorized and tagged , . Bookmark the permalink. Leave a comment.

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