***

A Lesson in Punctuation

One of the reasons oftentimes cited as rationale for dating ang mo would be their proficiency for English. This is of course a gross misconception, and I know so because I virtually had to rewrite all of the Boy’s application letters while he was job searching earlier in the year.

Mr. Saccharine (The guy I met at the Mitre’s pub sometime back) has been sending me a barrage of messages that leave an after-taste twice as cloy as Splenda (sweetener of choice recommended for people on Atkins- why do they call them artificial sweeteners anyway? Sweeteners are sweeteners. If it’s not naturally in the food then it has to added on, so technically anything that sweetens a food that’s not naturally sweet enough already, is artificial.)

Sometime about mid-afternoon, while I was contemplating on the fullness of my tummy and wondering if I deserved a Milkyway, Mr. S texted and left me feeling like I had to thank him for changing my mind about the chocolate. One super sweet thing at lunchtime is sufficient, really.

You have SMS!: I believe in shower and keep not spoil and toss.

You have sent SMS!: How have the spoils been of late then? Any trouble making up your mind on who first to toss. Perhaps it’s time for Detox, showers are too inefficient.

I was rather shocked when I got that. Shower and keep not, spoil and toss? But that went against the whole image you were trying to impress about yourself upon me. Wow, thank you for the honesty.

Apparently, due to the draught of punctuation apparent in his texts, I had mis-read it. The situation as interpreted by me was as follows: Wake up in the morning thinking, shit, who’s the chick in my bed. Get her to shower while getting a scrub down yourself, because you feel filthy that you’d binged on sex once again.

Shower and keep not, spoil her then toss her. Fantastic.

Thank god I’ve never met anyone like that.

Well wait, once. It was the one-night stand. (I must stress on the The. As in singular.) Local. Didn’t even bother with letting me shower before he sent me home. Oh but then we did it at his married. sister’s apartment; of course he couldn’t let her know he’d been secretly using the guest room for such immoral purposes. But I’m sure the Buddha in the hall tattletale-d on him later.

I supposed he got mildly alarmed at my reply, because, apparently shower and keep not spoil and toss was supposed to read with a comma before the not, not after. (For visual effect: Shower and keep, not spoil and toss.) So the meaning’s entirely different now. Shower with gifts and keep the girl, not spoil her and leave her for the dump.

***

Since we’re looking though my rather colourful cell-phone inbox today:

Message from the G-spot informing me I’d left my clothes at his place. (I changed into something else. Intentionally forgetting to wear your panties is one thing, intentionally forgetting to wear your clothes so you can leave them behind is another issue altogether.)

“Well, no I didn’t They're really my sister’s. But that’s of no consequence. Just don’t use them as jizz rags. I’m sure I’m better.”

Oh, I really know how to demean myself, don’t I. But ah, I suppose it makes sense when you reserve such self-humiliation for someone you can feel like going down on your knees for.

xoxox