ENTERTAINMENT / Hot Pot Column
Allured by flamenco and two rich ladies
By Hu Xudong (China Daily)
Updated: 2007-05-25 14:00
If I had known it, I would have sellotaped my mouth, so that my
har-de-har wouldn't scare our kitten; I would have sat on another chair,
so that my computer chair wouldn't turn upside down as I burst out in
laughter.
As usual, I got myself a cup of tea after getting up and turned on the
computer to browse through the MSN. Suddenly, a friend shook my screen:
"It's said you are patronized by two rich ladies!"
I thought he was joking and paid no heed. But he persisted. I had to tell
him, although I might have fancied such an ideal occasionally, I never
put it into practice.
But the friend concluded all those involved in such events would only
deny it. He declared: The news is spread far and wide - there is no use
denying.
My wife and I giggled our way to work. Soon we ran into another friend
who sniggered at me with joy and jealousy: "Is it true that two rich
ladies support you?"
Good heavens! My MSN friend was right. I have been tagged as a protg of
two certain matrons. My mouth ran dry as I tried in vain to pull my
friend out of the misunderstanding.
As I asked for my way from another acquaintance, he who never snickers
sneered: "You are keeping a low profile - you still take a bus when two
rich madams back you up?"
I collapsed.
I have participated in the spread of numerous rumors and know fully well
even the wildest innuendo stems from certain distorted facts. Yet I
racked my brains and couldn't figure out the source of my disreputation.
My better half offered help: "If I were one of the two rich ladies, who
could the other be? Why must there be two? Is there a misunderstanding
about our trip with my girlfriend? If I were a rich lady, how easy it is
to become a rich lady! Do I really look like a rich lady? Are they saying
I'm fat?"
Thanks to my wife's amazing analysis, before we fell asleep, she cracked
this puzzle. A few days ago, we watched a show by Vicente Amigo, flamenco
guitar master from Spain. As my wife interviewed the virtuoso, I stayed
outside waiting.
A Spanish young man who had sung in the show slipped out. Two women,
apparently attracted by his voice and muscle, engaged him for a chat
beside their BMW. Yet the man couldn't speak English, nor could the
ladies speak Spanish.
I always pride myself with a spirit of Lei Feng, so I offered help with a
mixture of Spanish and Portuguese. Finally, the young man jumped in and
the BMW dashed into the night.
My wife related this overture happily on MSN. Little would either of us
predict the dramatic turn of events.
I used to love a game: An American asks a German to translate an English
poem, then a French goes on to translate it. After going through dozens
of lingual twists, the poem is back in English, but in completely
different words and meaning.
But my experience proves, even in my mother tongue, transfiguration could
lead the message to backfire.
(China Daily 05/25/2007 page20)
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