Someone’s looking out for me

I’ve had to learn to be independent having been single five years.  Imagine my surprise when Topless, my neighbour and proud owner of the roaming security dogs insisted on taking me shopping on his motorbike.  Thus saving me a sweaty five minutes’ walk to the bus stop and $5.5.   There he wouldn’t even let me pay a cent and showed me the ropes; where to buy what at the best value.  He would make someone an excellent ‘wife’!  Then he dropped me off outside one of my pupil’s and zoomed off with the shopping home.

Gobsmacked.  What’s his game?  Hidden agenda?  Divorce tends to make us cynical.  Apart from close family and friends I don’t expect anything.  As long as strangers aren’t nasty or rude I am happy.  If they show me the minutest bit of kindness I cry.  But this is registering on the richter scale.

So far he has been very honourable and gentlemanly.  No trying to pounce on me or grab my hand.  Maybe he just wants to be a friend to a middle aged divorcee who’s been through a rough time.  It could be seeing the bedsheets posing as curtains.  Or the fan off despite the heat wave?  Offering to teach his girlfriend’s son for peanuts, a mere $50, less than half the going rate?  Any or all of the above?

I am poor but proud.  I want no pity.  But I’ll happily accept the hand of friendship and practical help.  Before this, he had bumped into me struggling with my shopping and immediately offer to carry it up for me.  Another time, home from an overnight shift at the container terminal in Kwai Chung he spotted my mattress airing on the balcony and asked if I had anything else heavy that needed shifting. Wow wow and wow.

It was then he asked when I was going shopping.  When I said I didn’t need any he ignored me and said I’ll come get you at 9am tomorrow after a quick shower.  I thought oh he’s just saying that and forgot about it.  Well, I’ll be damn, I was woken up by my mobile going off at exactly, yep, you guessed it, 9.  Cursing him under my breath, I had to rush round getting ready.  Still brushing my teeth he was already waiting outside, complaining I was taking too long.  He saw the rubbish at the door and marched out with it to the main road and onto his motorbike.  I’ve never had to move so fast, especially in the scorching heat and humidity.  Being the silent mysterious type he handed me a pink helmet and pointed down the road, meaning go and wait there.

I didn’t realise I had missed being a pillion.  Ex is a Harley worshipper.  The wind in your hair and all that jazz is particularly welcome in the oppressive heat.  And Topless turned out to be a perfectly safe and experienced rider so I could just sit back and enjoy the ride.  We’ll have to go on a longer ride next time somewhere scenic.

Later I saw him on his way out having spruced himself up with a heavy rucksack.  It was his day off and he wouldn’t be back till next morning.  Mmm interesting.  Obviously a rendevous with some woman.  This suits me fine.  Platonic friendship in the form of chauffeur, shopping carrier, handyman is just what the doctor ordered.

Someone must be looking out for me up there.

Advertisements

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 August 10, 2013, in New Life and tagged , , , , , , , . Bookmark the permalink. 2 Comments.

  1. One day at a time my friend. One day

    • Every day is a bonus cos I’ve been within touching distance of those pearly gates not once, not twice but three times and each time was sent back. Told kid, it’s not time yet, you have more to learn. I have tasted euphoria and deep deep sorrow, c’est la vie; I wouldn’t have it any other way.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s

%d bloggers like this: